Winter's Refuge
by starknakedgendry
Summary: "Only those who still cling to their mother's skirts follow the rules," Arya said with a grin. "And you most definitely have a knack for not following the rules." Response to a fic request on Tumblr about Gendry being the heir to the throne and a peasant Arya.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: As requested by ****, because she's asking for a story where Gendry is a prince and next-in-line to the throne, while Arya is from a poor family.**

** Since I'm still in the middle of ****_Leaving Winter_****, this story might run on a few chapters only…well, depending on the reception. We'll see!**

**This one's short and probably a bit (or a lot) boring since I'm still trying to establish stuff here. The story would pick up thereafter. Any inconsistency would be my fault, since I find it a bit hard to play with the time period. **

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

He was bored to death.

It was his 17th name day in a week's time, and the castle was busy preparing for the feast to come. He was not allowed to wander away from the castle grounds, and Gendry was beyond bored.

Prince Gendry Baratheon, son of King Robert and Queen Cersei (formerly Lannister), first of his name and the only heir to the Baratheon throne. He is called the _Bull Prince_, not meant to be an insult but otherwise a compliment to his well-muscled frame, his powerful skills at swordfighting, and his knack for taking risks. At 16, he is the epitome of a true-born ruler and the very image of his father when he was his age.

He had just broken his fast and keen on practicing with swords at the training ground when his personal guard, Ser Yoren, gave him the King's order to not let the Prince out of the castle grounds today. Gendry was slightly angered by this, and he demanded to see his father immediately.

"The King is in the middle of an argument with the Hand of the King. Lord Tywin seemed pretty upset about the recent ambushes in the King's Road, but the King said that he cannot afford to send more men to find the perpetrators for more than necessary," Yoren responded.

Gendry sighed. His father is frequently busy and more often than not, stays longer in his study or in the Great Hall to hear the grievances between the lords and to also listen to the lesser folk. His mother, the Queen, understood that the King has a duty to his people although she too misses his presence. Gendry himself is being molded to become a great ruler when his time comes, but if he had the choice, he would be out on adventures with his lowly friends, making the most out of life and having fun.

_Having fun_, he thought. _Only my friends show me what having fun means_.

"Ser Yoren," he said in a whisper. The knight moved closer, getting the hint that hushed tones meant secrets that could lead them into trouble. "If anyone asks where I am, you must say that I am in my room reading a book and wishes not to see people until I finish reading the books so."

Yoren stared blankly at the Prince; trying to decide whether this would be a good idea or a bad one. "But what if the King asks for you, what should I say?"

Gendry frowned. "You do remember that this isn't the first time we've done this sneaking out, right? I'm sure your brain would think of something cunning. By cunning, I mean the _No, I did not go to the tavern or brothel_ kind of cunning."

Yoren looked at his charge for a while. He knew that the Prince did not really have a knack for following rules, and that he was bull-headed at best. Once he got his mind onto something, he makes sure he gets it. So if Prince Gendry says he will leave the castle grounds, _he will leave the castle grounds_, with or without escort.

"It might be best to stay closer to the castle, my lord. It would be easier to call for you if needs be," Yoren replied.

"Very well," Gendry answered with a nod. "You know where to find me, then."

"With your new friend, the blacksmith's daughter?" Yoren inquired.

Gendry smiled brightly, his handsome features lighting up at the mention of the smith's daughter. "Yes. I shall spend time with my new friend this morn and be back this afternoon, unless you call for me. But," Gendry raised his finger to Yoren. "Only when necessary. Remember that, Yoren. I shall be happily practicing with wooden swords and climbing trees and playing _blind man's bluff _with the smith's daughter."

"Take the hidden passage, as usual. Be safe, my lord."

"I shall be back sooner than you know."

* * *

Gendry quickly ran from the castle's hidden passage and straight into the gates that lead to the city. He donned his traveling cloak to conceal his face; making sure that no one would recognize him and reveal his true identity. And even if Yoren allows him to run free to see the smith and his daughter, Gendry knows that his loyal guard sends a secret guard or two to make sure that he is safe within the lesser folk.

As soon as Gendry stepped inside the forge and was greeted by the heat from the furnace, he put his hood down and smiled at the blacksmith. Gendry found him a warm-hearted man, kind and loving to his daughter and respectful of others, regardless of their stature. He spent hours on some days just talking to the new smith, who has recently held the position of blacksmith to House Baratheon.

"Good morn, Ned," Gendry greeted him with a smile. "Is your daughter here?"

Ned Stark, once an apprentice and now respected craftsman of iron and metal, has come to King's Landing to work for the Baratheons. A man of the North, he favors the icy cold winters of Winterfell, to the heat of King's Landing. Gendry knew that only loyalty to the King and his love for his craft were the only reasons why Ned remained here.

"I believe she's up there in her favorite spot and even if she does not say it, I know she waits for you, my lord," the smith answered.

"Please," Gendry said with soft eyes. "Call me Gendry. I demand no formalities when it is merely us. I have enough people calling me _My Prince, Your Grace _and _My Lord_ in the castle. I shall hear none of those from you."

"I cannot do as you ask, my lord," answered Ned, his eyes remaining downcast. "If anyone hears of it, my head will be on a spike as fast as I could say my name."

"Then I must command it from you," Gendry said firmly. "We are friends, aren't we? I find no need to receive formalities from friends."

Ned heaved a deep sigh. "As you command it. Shall I fetch my daughter for you? She's been climbing trees this morning, and the Seven knows how tired I am of reminding her that young girls do not climb trees nor do they play with wooden swords."

Gendry laughed. "I have already disturbed you from your work. Do carry on. I know where to find her. It's that big old tree a ways from here, is it not?"

Ned smiled and nodded in answer.

Gendry returned the kind man's smile. "Then I shall go and see to it that Arya does not break her neck from climbing trees."

* * *

"What took you so long? I've been climbing trees since early this morning," Arya Stark said as soon as he took the space beside her.

"I had to sneak out today," he explained as he took the apple she offered him. "My father forbade me to leave the castle grounds because of some recent ambushes happening at the King's Road. They must fear for my safety, especially that my na-" Gendry immediately shut his mouth before he could speak further.

"What?" Arya said with a tilt of her head. "Because your name day is fast approaching?"

Gendry could only shrug.

"Only those who still cling to their mother's skirts follow the rules," Arya said with a grin. "And you most definitely have a knack for not following the rules."

"How observant, My Lady Stark," Gendry answered her grin with one of his own.

Arya's face changed into a frown. "Do not call me My Lady! I am not one and only a lowly smith's daughter. Do not mock me so, for I will stick you with this pointy end of my sword!"

Gendry laughed. "To be honest, you _really_ are no lady because no proper young lady climbs trees and cusses, and eats like she hasn't eaten for days. And besides, you're always in breeches, that no one will recognize you as being a girl."

"Shut up, stupid!"

Gendry laughed harder, making Arya grasp onto the tree branch harder, lest they both fall to the ground. "See, you're the only one who calls me stupid!"

"No, no, no! Hot Pie calls you idiot, on the other hand," Arya replied.

"How sweet of Hot Pie," Gendry said with a roll of his eyes.

Arya laughed this time, and Gendry couldn't help but express his mirth too.

"Last one on the ground shall bring the best hot pies everyday for the rest of the week!" she said.

"Deal! Hey!" Gendry exclaimed when Arya was already jumping and crawling from limb to limb. "You little cheat! Arya!"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you for reading & reviewing, following and making this a favorite. I'm surprised to know some of you are liking this, although I've given the warning that this won't be a long story. Just answering a request for such storyline on Tumblr. Like I've said, I'm still in the middle of another story and I find it hard to juggle more than 1, unless the other's just a oneshot.**

**But all talk aside, here's the next one. I hope you enjoy this as I enjoyed writing it. More to come soon, I promise (wink! wink!), and again, THANK YOU for constantly reading and reviewing. You guys rock :)**

* * *

Arya was stirring the rabbit soup she had prepared for supper when Ned walked in. She noticed that he looked more tired than usual, probably because of the swords he had to reforge, lances to sharpen, helmets and armors to fix. She took a bowl of hot soup and placed it on the small table, along with a fresh loaf of bread she made that afternoon.

"Long day at the forge?" she asked him as he took a seat on the wooden chair that looked a bit small for his large, muscular frame.

He tore of a piece of bread and dipped it partly in the hot soup before putting it in his mouth. "As always," came his short reply. "You look quite tired, too. Long day at play?"

Arya saw a hint of a smile on his face and she, too, smiled in return. "Gendry and I went scouring for apples in the tree out back. And he helped me shoot this rabbit we have here."

Ned sighed. "_Prince_ Gendry, Arya. You must remember that he's not like us. He's to be King someday, and it's not fit for a King to be running around and climbing trees, scouring for apples and berries and hunting rabbits for you. For _us_," he added with exasperation.

Arya's shoulders slumped. "I know, Father. But Gendry-"

"_Prince_ Gendry."

Arya rolled her eyes. "_Prince Gendry_ is not like that! He's different," she adds with a softened tone.

"I know that his company makes you happy, and I can see that you make him happy, too, with your company. But he cannot go on sneaking out of the castle just to play games all afternoon with you! You're not even children anymore. He's turning 17 on his name day, and you're 16, my sweet. You should actually be thinking about finding a man to marry and have babes with."

"You know I don't want to marry when I'm not ready! I won't do it, Father!" Arya strongly protested.

Ned took a drink of water - passing up on ale this night - and signaled to Arya to come closer. She obliged, fighting tears as Ned's arm encircled her waist and pulled her in for half an embrace.

"I won't force you to marry if you're not ready. But you know that someday soon, you shall find a man who would take care of you and have children with you, especially when Mother and I will not be with you in this world forever."

"Stop talking like that!" Arya hissed through gritted teeth. "If I could keep you all alive until the end of time, I would. I'll have none of my family dying, if I could possibly help it," she said sadly.

"But you know that is impossible, my sweet. What are our words back home? The Stark words?" he asked.

"Winter is coming," Arya whispered.

"Aye," he firmly said. "Now, best be ready for bed. I need your help at the forge tomorrow."

Arya's face lit up. "I can help you sharpen swords, Father?"

Ned laughed. "No, my sweet. I need you to tend to those coming into the forge and take their orders and help sell some extra trinkets your Mother has sent from home. I cannot finish my tasks if I keep going back and forth, tending to orders and then picking up my tools. It disrupts my momentum."

Arya resisted the urge to make a face. Her father was right, but she gave Gendry - _Prince Gendry _- a promise to go hunting with him tomorrow. Upon weighing her priorities, she knew she has a duty with her father to help out as best she could. Playing and dallying with the Prince was not on top of her list. Or at least, it wasn't supposed to be.

"Yes, Father," she answered like the dutiful daughter she should be.

"Good. Now, clean this up and get ready for bed."

* * *

Gendry walked towards the forge again but was disappointed to find Arya busy tending to a few customers. She was seeing to a horse as her father was fixing two of its shoes, but he noticed how glum she looked. He did not understand why she had to be there, when they could be out riding in the fields or hunting rabbits in the forest. But seeing as Ned was the only trusted blacksmith in the kingdom, he was most likely swarmed with work and had to ask Arya to help out.

_Maybe I should suggest an apprentice for him_, he thought. _I should ask Father tonight_.

"It's the Prince!"

Gendry was alarmed to hear that he was recognized by those in the forge. He was not so quick to turn back, so he decided to acknowledge them with a nod.

"Are your guards waiting outside, M'Lord? You shouldn't be out parlaying with the lesser folk for it isn't safe for the Heir," said a man he recognized as Mikken. He was the old smith until he passed the duty on to Ned Stark because of old age. He lives in the village but now only tending to his vegetables and pigs and running after his grandsons and granddaughters. He seemed happy to be retired from working at the forge after a few decades of being in the midst of the furnace.

"They are out there waiting for me," Gendry lied, not wanting to give away the fact that he had sneaked out from the castle to see the blacksmith's daughter.

Arya gave him an apologetic look when she noticed him looking at her. He raised his brow, as if throwing the question if she could meet him out in the fields today. She must have read his mind because he could only give a small shake of her head and a crease to her pretty brows. Gendry's shoulders slumped, and the action did not go unnoticed by her father.

"Arya," he softly called out to her. "Why don't you take a break and let me handle that for now? I feel like having freshly baked apple pie at supper tonight. You might want to pick some red, ripe, juicy ones from the tree out back."

Arya's face lit up and so did Gendry's.

"Thank you, Father!" Arya all but squealed in delight. She signaled to Gendry that she'd be out in the back, waiting for him before leaving in a fit of excitement.

"But don't be too long, my sweet," Ned called after her, before turning to raise his brow at the Prince.

Gendry understood that they did not have much time to dally this afternoon, and so he nodded in acknowledgement of Ned's hint and bid the others farewell. He had to go out front and full view of everyone, since he could not just rush out where Arya went, lest he'd give away his little secret. He calmly walked out, taking a few quick steps forward until he was out of the forge's view, before finally breaking into a run.

"There you are! What took you so long?" Arya asked as she gathered the hem of her skirts so she could crawl up the tree.

"I had to leave as calmly as I could, silly girl," Gendry replied. He got ready to climb up after her but she stopped him with a raised hand.

"No! You stay there because I need someone to catch these apples."

"I don't want to be the one to catch the apples! Why don't you catch them?"

"Because I'm already up here, stupid! Now get on with it!"

"No!" he protested, crossing his arms over his chest in defiance. "Your skirts would be best catch all the apples that _I_ would throw at you. Now, come down here this instant!"

"I know you're a Prince and the heir to the throne and blah blah blah blah, but you can't order me around like you do your castle guards!"

"Your father will be eating worm pie instead of apple pie for supper if you don't start shimmying down that tree so I could pick those apples. Get down here!"

"Don't be stupid! Now, hold both your hands out and start catching apples!"

"You're not 11 years old so stop being a brat! Get…down…here…NOW!"

And he started climbing the tree, only to be thrown back by a sharp pain in his forehead.

"Arya! Why'd you throw an apple at me? What kind of girl throws apples at other people?"

"The bad kind!" she shot back. "Now, hold your hands out and start catching these or I'll shake a whole branch until all the apples here come raining on you!"

* * *

"Oh dear! What happened to your head?" Queen Cersei touched the red bump on her son's forehead. She had a frown on her beautiful face as she inspected his slight injury.

"I'm fine, Mother," Gendry replied as he gently pushed her hands away. "It's just a stupid bump and not in any way life-threatening."

Cersei made a soft tutting sound as she backed away from her son. "Is it bad that a mother only fusses her concern for her son? I am hurt that you're pushing me away, my love."

Gendry sighed. His mother was good with making him feel bad and guilty over trivial things, but if he would admit it to himself, he likes the attention she gives him. It makes him feel like a little boy still.

"I'm sorry, Mother," he said, softer this time. "It's nothing to worry about. I bumped my head on the desk, that's all. It's stupid, I know."

Cersei gave him a small smile and pushed his black hair away from his eyes. "Where have you been this afternoon, anyway? Your Father left early to hunt and I was merely bored from having tea and cakes with the ladies and every other busybody in this castle. I wanted to talk to you about your name day," she finished, hooking her arm into his as they strolled into the courtyard to watch the men train at swordfighting.

"I…I'm…ah…I was just…" he stuttered, trying to search quickly in his head for a good answer. He was saved by Ser Yoren, of course, when the guard walked towards them with Gendry's horse, _Swiftfoot_.

"My Lord, it is time for you to take _Swiftfoot_ out today. He has been restless, I've been told by the stable master."

Gendry looked happy and relieved to be able to go out riding today, especially if it meant he would be seeing Arya for the second time today. "Thank you, Ser Yoren. I lost track of time. Mother," he turned to Cersei. "I apologize, but I need to take my horse for riding today before it gets dark. I will be back shortly."

He quickly took the reins before his mother could question him further. He heard Ser Yoren tell the Queen that he would accompany the Prince on his ride, leaving Cersei standing there with a glint of mischief in her eyes.

* * *

"Again?" Ned said as Gendry stood outside the door to their cottage. He realized how rude he must have sounded to the Prince and mentally shook his head to clear it. "I apologize, M'Lord. I would call for Arya-"

"We'll be back before dark, Father!" Arya said as she squeezed her way between Ned and the door.

Gendry was grinning widely at Ned and waved farewell to him. The older man could do nothing but stare at them as they rushed to _Swiftfoot_, with Gendry getting on first before holding his hand out to help Arya get behind him. With one last wave, Gendry steered his horse towards the open field where he led them into a full gallop.

They rode at full speed until they reached the top of a small hill. Gendry heard Arya laugh behind him, loving the rush and adventure of being out where no one was most likely to tell them that a Prince and a lowborn were not supposed to be acquaintances, even more so, friends.

Gendry got off first before helping her down next. She reached for his hand but apparently, he had other ideas. Arya blushed the moment his hands went to her small waist, picking her up and letting her off the horse. She blushed even more when he deliberately pulled her close to him, her body sliding down his as they looked at each other without batting an eye.

Gendry felt his heart skip as soon as he put her down, noticing that she looked even prettier up close, with her dark hair getting loose from its braid, her startling gray eyes shining up at him, her lush lips begging to be kissed. He must have groaned when her pink tongue darted out discreetly to wet her lower lip, and Arya gasped in surprise.

He couldn't help it. He bent his head towards her and captured her mouth in a soft, sweet kiss.

If froze in surprise by the action, it was only for several seconds until she reached up and wound her hands around his neck. He growled deep in his throat and pulled her even closer to him; glorying in the soft feel of her breasts on his chest and the small of her back in his hands. He then moved down to her small waist, before ending up on the curve of her hips. Her hands, too, were doing a little exploration of her own. She moved her hands to his chest before crawling up his broad, muscular shoulders, before ending up back on his neck. It seemed like it wasn't enough for her, so her fingers crawled up his nape where she raked nimble fingers through his soft, dark hair. He must have loved the feel of it because his tongue, which was doing indescribably incredible things to her tongue and lips, delved deeper in a more erotic dance with hers.

"Gendry…" she whispered, as she leaned her head back and let his lips kiss a path down her neck.

"Gods, Arya…so good…so good…" he growled in response, continuing his foray from her neck to her ear.

"More…" she hummed in approval, as he playfully bit her lobe before sucking on it.

She shivered when she felt him chuckle before going back to devouring her sweet mouth. When she felt him pull her thighs up and wound them and her legs around his lean waist, she locked her ankles to keep her in place. She heard Gendry groan again, until he finally leaned her back on the trunk of a nearby acorn tree. With less of her weight on him, his hands started running down from her thigh to as far down her leg as he could reach without letting go of the kiss. It went on and on and on until he noticed Arya started whimpering and gasping. He opened his eyes and found her staring at him; her steel grays boring into his steel blues, and realized that he was grinding his hips into her soft center. She moved with him on instinct; her soft center grinding deeper and harder into his hardness until Gendry couldn't take any more. He quickly unwound her legs from him and let her feet touch the ground before he walked a short distance away from her. He felt guilty for leaving her standing there with a puzzled look on her face, so he gathered his wits as quickly as he can before returning to her.

"Gendry…" she whispered, a questioning tone to her words.

"I'm sorry, it shouldn't have gone that far," he replied. "I'm not sorry for kissing you, though, but I'm sorry that I forgot myself and took advantage of you."

"You didn't," she said with an annoyed tone. "I was kissing you back as much as you were kissing me."

"I still shouldn't have-"

"Shut up, stupid! I liked kissing you. There, I said it. I liked it and I'm glad my first kiss was with you."

Gendry looked shyly down at her, a smile slowly creeping across his face. "You liked that I was the first?"

"Shut up."

He threw his head back and laughed. "You weren't bad yourself."

It was her turn to blush.

"Come now," he said a moment later. "It grows dark. We must get you back to your father and I must return to the castle before supper."

With a final peck on her lips, he helped her up _Swiftfoot_ and they rode back towards the village.

* * *

"Can you confirm that it was him?"

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Who was that girl he was with?"

"She is the blacksmith's daughter."

"Are they seeing each other?"

"I have heard the cook and her staff gossip about the Prince sneaking out of the castle grounds to see the smith's daughter."

"How often?"

"Every day he can, Your Grace."

"I shall seek the smith out on the morrow. Do not tell my son we saw him this afternoon."

"As you command, Your Grace."


	3. Chapter 3

"Might I have a word with you?"

Ned was surprised to find King Robert at the forge's entrance. He immediately bowed to acknowledge him before looking around for a suitable chair for the king to sit on. Robert waved his hand in dismissal, seemingly content to stand and look around the small, hot workplace. His guards were standing outside to scout the area for possible attacks on their king.

"I would find something more suitable for you to sit on, Your Grace," Ned said with a bow of his head. "But no one ever comes in here except to place orders."

"I see no need for you to find me anything, Ned," Robert replied. "This won't be long. I see you are a busy man and I won't take more of your time than necessary."

"How can I be of service to you, Your Grace?"

The king finally stopped pacing the forge and stood directly in front of the smith, allowing ample space between them so as not to intimidate the man. "Your daughter…her name is Arya, is it not?"

Ned's heartbeat picked up. At that exact moment, it dawned on him what the king's exact purpose for visiting was. "Yes, Your Grace."

Robert nodded in understanding. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully before letting the words come out of his mouth. "I will be stating this directly, but I hope you would not take this personally. You do know that there are certain laws and customs that we must abide with, do you?"

Ned could only nod.

The king heaved a deep sigh. "If it were only up to me, I would have no qualms about allowing it so, but you do know that it is not customary for…"

He signaled Ned to give him the workbench anyway. He sat on it despite its ratty appearance, making the wood grunt under his weight. Ned watched as the king rubbed his fingers over his temples, as if trying to make the throbbing go away.

He sighed once more. "I have a son, you have a daughter. But our houses cannot be joined."

"I do not belong to any house of nobility, Your Grace. Merely a Stark of Winterfell in the North, and a smith to House Baratheon."

"Exactly my point," said Robert. "I am sure that your daughter is a good girl, and your family a reputable one, I do not question that. But my son is to be affianced to House Tyrell. I cannot-_we cannot_-have our children's affections for each other come between this agreement between the Baratheons and Tyrells. I hope you understand that, Ned."

Ned could only nod his head in understanding. It was something he had already warned his daughter about, but now that the king has discussed his concerns with him, made Ned realize the gravity of it all.

"I apologize if this has in any way offended you, Your Grace. I will talk to my daughter this night and forbid her to see the Prince, if that would be best."

Robert nodded his approval. "Despite this…ah…unfortunate news I bring, I take this chance to tell you how pleased I am with your work. But as we are training men for war and constantly seeing to repairing what needs be in the castle, you must be incredibly busy these days. I would send an apprentice to help you with the work."

"That would be most helpful and kind of you, Your Grace."

"I'll send for the boy on the morrow," Robert said as he took his leave.

"Your Grace," Ned said in farewell, bowing low until the king has exited the forge.

With a deep sigh and a rub of his temples, Ned picked up his tongs and hammer and went back to work.

* * *

Gendry was whistling as he walked up the stairs leading to his bedchambers. His mood had improved since that morning. He was almost to the door when he found his mother standing there, waiting for him.

"Did you have a good ride, my love?" Cersei asked as she once again touched the lump on his forehead. "It's almost gone."

"It is merely a bump, Mother. No need to fuss about it, I told you," Gendry said with a smile.

"Come," Cersei said as she hooked her slim arm with his muscular one. She pulled him toward his chambers, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as he stood there watching her with a puzzled expression. "Tell me about your day."

"It was a good day today," he explained, crossing over to stand before the window. "I went riding with Ser Yoren out in the fields. I wanted to hunt but Father promised to take me with him when he goes hunting after my name day."

Cersei nodded in approval. "Your father has been busy as of late. It is good that he plans to spend time with you when he can."

"Do you think…" he started, before shaking his head. "Never mind. It is of no importance."

"What is it, my love? What troubles you so?"

He sighed before going on. "Do you think Father would be a better father and husband if he spends more time with us?"

"I believe it would be so, but he makes a good job already by keeping this family and at the same time this kingdom. It does not make him less of a man, and a good one at that, if he sees to the safety of his people first."

Gendry frowned. "Should it not be the other way around? Shouldn't his family come first before everyone else?"

"Do not doubt that your father loves us and has his family on top of his list of priorities," Cersei said in a soothing voice. "But he is crowned King and must see to the welfare of all his subjects. It has been quite unruly in some of the towns, which is why he has been absent as of late."

Gendry continued to stand by the window, watching the courtyard below. Several servants were carrying wooden buckets filled with water and baskets filled with vegetables ready for cooking supper. His thoughts immediately went to Arya and the carrot soup and apple pie they would be having for supper. He turned back to his mother and said, "If I were to be on the throne, I would not put my family below my subjects. My wife and children will always be first before anything or anyone else."

Cersei remained silent, but Gendry was far from over.

"And these social classes...I do not see why people must be below or above someone in rank," he commented with a wave of his hands. "If we are fighting for freedom of lands and peace among the people, then why are there social classes after all?"

Cersei stood next to him, pulling his head down to hers and kissing his temple. "You are a good man, my love. But that is not the way of things." She caressed the hair on his forehead before softly patting his cheek. "I will leave you now to be ready for supper.

* * *

Arya noticed that her father seemed a bit restless. She had prepared some carrot soup and a freshly-made apple pie as requested. But now that they were sitting at the table for supper, he seemed closed-off and distant; as if something was bothering him and would not share it with her.

When supper was over and she started to gather the bowls and spoons, he took a gentle hold of her wrist to stop her from the task.

"Arya, there is something I need to discuss with you," he said, casting weary eyes to her face.

She put the bowls back on the table and nodded, wiping her hands on her skirt which were dirtied by her afternoon foray in the fields with Gendry. "Does it concern Mother?"

No, my sweet," he responded with a small smile. "You need not worry about your mother or brothers and sister. But I would speak to you about King Robert."

Arya frowned. "What about the king?"

Ned tried to choose his words carefully. He knew how Arya was the most rebellious of his children, her and Rickon, and it would have to take firm words but a soft approach for her to understand what he had to say.

""Is there anything you need to tell me, my love?"

"Am I in trouble?" she asked with a curious expression on her face.

"King Robert paid me a visit today," he explained. "At the forge."

Arya froze. _What did King Robert possibly want with her father?_

"He's sending a young apprentice who could help me," he continued. "I would be training him with smithing, wouldn't that be nice?"

She gave him a genuine smile. "It would be, Father. You don't have to do everything alone now. But I've been telling you, I could help you if only you'd give me something more than just tending to clients. I can wield a hammer, and tongs are not so hard to pick up, too."

Ned shook his head. "Smithing is not work for young ladies like you. You're enough help tending to our home, planting crops for food, hunting in the forest…all these that I would have done myself if only I do not have to work at the smithy all day."

"You do hard work, Father. It is not expected of you to do everything on your own."

"You should be out there visiting friends of your age, thinking about young lads who would court you, swimming in the lake whenever you feel like it. But you help keep this home and run to me when I call for help. It is not what I would want you to do for the rest of your life."

"I do not know why you keep these silly thoughts in your head, Father," she argued. "I am happy to be helping you here, especially when Mother's back home in Winterfell, tending to our home and running after my brothers and sister. It's the least I could do to help around here."

"You're a good girl, my sweet. But now, I must ask something from you once again..."

Arya waited with bated breath as her father took both her hands in his and gave it a small, reassuring squeeze.

"…and it's about Prince Gendry."

Arya pulled her hands away from her father. _No, no, no, no…_

"I'm sorry, my sweet. But you cannot keep seeing the Prince. He cannot keep sneaking out of the castle grounds because his safety is at all times in jeopardy when away from his guards. The King forbids it, and I'm afraid I must forbid it as well."

Arya stared at her father in sadness. She knew it was not to his liking, for Gendry-_Prince Gendry_-is the only person aside from Ned whom she trusts outside of Winterfell. He must obey the king, and she must obey the king too by obeying her father. But she did not like it. Not one bit.

"I…I don't understand why…" she stammered. "He's my friend!"

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead to soothe her disappointment. "I know he is your friend. But he is the crown prince and we are servants to their house. It is not the way of things. Come, now. We must clean this up before retiring. I would need your help at the forge again. The apprentice comes on the morrow."

* * *

Gendry was seething. His steps were loud and his demeanor irritable. He had just come from his father's study, where he was told-no,_ ordered_-to stop seeing the blacksmith's daughter. The request resulted to a shouting match between the king and the prince, which led to the king giving out the order that totally forbids him to see Arya.

_Who is he to order me around? Oh, right. He is the fucking King!_

He could not believe his father would do this to him. He was told that the king and his hunting party saw Arya yesterday as they rode through the fields. They might have seen Gendry kissing Arya, too. And now he has been ordered, not just by the king but his advisers as well, that continuing to see the smith's daughter would not be the best thing to do.

_Who the fuck do they think they are? Even if he's king and his men born of nobility, that does not make him better than anyone else. And it does not mean they can just tell me what to do or not to do!_

As soon as he reached his bedchambers, he grabbed the riding cloak he discarded earlier and put it on. Shoving the hood lower down his head to conceal his face, he quickly but carefully crept down the stairs, passing through the kitchen and out the back where he would be less likely seen. Taking the secret passage out the castle, he ran as fast as he could until he reached the road to the Stark cottage.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Just a short one. A filler chap, and then it picks up from here. Thank you for reading & reviewing, following & making it a favorite. **

**Though short, I still enjoyed writing it. Hope you like reading it too XD**

* * *

Arya was startled by the tapping noise by her window. She couldn't find sleep, but the noise, very much like a pebble being thrown at her window, startled her still. She slowly opened the window and was almost hit by a pebble to the face.

"Seven hells!" she hissed.

"Oh gods, Arya! I'm so sorry!" Gendry shout-whispered an apology as he stepped closer to her window. "I didn't think you'd open your window!"

"Then what in seven hells were you throwing that for?" Arya hissed.

"I…I just wanted…" Gendry stammered, not quite looking her in the eye.

Arya's brows furrowed. She held a finger to her lips to keep him quiet for a moment before creeping slowly towards her door. She stuck her head out, just enough to check on her father in the next room, before creeping back towards the window.

"Father's asleep," she whispered. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be asleep in your featherbed?" she said in a mocking tone.

Gendry rolled his eyes heavenward. "If I had the choice, I'd say no featherbed for me." He stuck his head to peek inside her room, his gaze landing on the straw mattress. "I'd settle for that straw mattress if it would mean sleeping with you on it," he added with a lopsided grin.

Arya slapped both her hands on his mouth, earning a muffled laughter from him. "Shut up, stupid! Now, what do you want?"

Gendry gently grabbed her wrists away from his mouth, but he kept them in his hands even as she lowered them already. He tried to suppress a shiver, although he wasn't too sure that Arya was able to anyway. It appears like he had the same effect on her as she had with him.

"Come with me," he whispered, leaning a bit closer. They were so close, she could feel his breath tickle her cheeks. And maybe if he leaned closer still, she could probably feel his lashes on her skin. "We'll be back before light. I just…I just want to be with you right now."

Arya's breath hitched in her throat.

"And I need to talk to you about something," he added.

"Me too," she said with a nod.

With one last look at her door, she reached down for her shoes before grabbing her cloak from the stool beside her bed. She froze midway on her way back to him, rushed to her bedside and stuffed a couple of pillows under the blanket to make it look like she was actually sleeping. Then she walked back to the window, opening it a bit more but just enough for her to creep out. Gendry helped her by grabbing her small waist and lifting her out and into the back of the cottage.

They remained silent as they swiftly ran towards the field; crossing the path that would lead to the stretch of trees in the forest. When they were finally a ways from the cottage, they bent over with laughter, as if the danger of sneaking out gave them added motivation if it means they would get some time alone.

"Oh, I am going to get my head on a spike if we get caught," he said in between breaths. He looked at Arya and saw that she had recovered faster than he did.

"But you're the Prince," she said softly. "How can they cut your head off as punishment? Maybe _I _would get my head on a spike," she said with a shrug.

"I won't let that happen," he mumbled, stepping closer to her and placing his hands on her head. His thumbs caressed her cheeks, his palm and fingers spanned around her neck to the back of her head. "I won't, I promise."

Gendry leaned closer and met her lips with a soft, sweet, lingering kiss. With a sigh, Arya kissed him back, forgetting the sad news her father delivered earlier that night. She met the kiss eagerly; feeling his hands tighten around her lower back to pull her closer to him. She let him devour her lips with hungry kisses, slanting hers with his slowly and provactively. When Gendry shifted, Arya reluctantly put her hands on his chest to give him a gentle, little push.

"What? Why?" Gendry's voice was rough to her ears, which made her all the more shiver with desire for him.

"You were supposed to say something, remember? There'll be time for kisses later," she whispered, running her fingertips along her swollen lips.

Before he could protest, she grabbed his hand and led him towards their favorite spot in a small clearing not too far from the opening of the woods. There was a large tree stump they always sit on, although it was usually Gendry sitting on it and Arya sitting on his lap. When they got to the stump, she was grateful that the moon was bright enough to cast light on the clearing, although she still knew it was dangerous to stay there for long. The night, after all, is dark and full of terrors.

"Come here," Gendry said, tugging her hand as he sat on the stump. He frowned when Arya pulled her hand from his grip and took a few steps away from him, a smile creeping on her face.

"What are you doing? Come here," he growled low in his throat. It was a menacing sound, but Arya had to steel herself from giving in and melting into his arms.

"No," she replied with a renewed determination. "Tell me what you need to tell me before we part this night. It is not safe for you, _Prince Gendry_," she said with a small, ladylike bow.

"Stop that, Arya" Gendry huffed in frustration. "I told you, when it's just us, we're just Arya and Gendry, Gendry and Arya. Stop joking around, I need to talk to you."

His voice turned curt and serious, making Arya realize that she must have angered him so. Slowly, she took a few steps towards him and finally let him pull her on his lap. He was quiet for a while; just holding her head to his chest, entangling and disentangling their fingers over and over again, until Arya lifted her head to look into his eyes.

"What bothers you?" she asked quietly.

"My father, among other things," he replied with a deep breath.

"And what are the other things?"

"Oh, just…you know…your father, you, me, and maybe we should add the whole kingdom just to be sure," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

She stood abruptly from his lap. "Why are you picking a fight with me? _You_ were the one who sought me out this night. _You_ asked to have a word with me. _You_, not _me_. So I hope you stop being a _prince_ and just tell me what you needed to tell me, so I could go on and sleep on my _straw mattress _because I definitely have no _featherbed_!"

"My father had forbidden me to see you," he said, his voice sharp and cutting. "_The fucking King _has forbidden me to see you. Ever."

"_Your_ father told _my_ father too," she responded with an equally sharp retort. "And maybe if you keep being bull-headed, I just might obey my father's command!"

"Go ahead! Do it!" Gendry walked menacingly towards her, moving his face closer to hers as he towered over her small frame.

"I will! Just you wait and see!" Arya shot back with equal defiance.

"Ha!" he exclaimed.

"Ha!" she responded. "Can you do it?" Arya asked, trying to ignore the feel of his fingers that were now digging into her arms as he held a death grip onto it. "Can you obey your father and stop seeing me? Can you do it, _Prince_ Gendry?"

"No!" he cried out, turning his back to her in frustration. "Can you do it, Arya?"

"No," she answered, softer than his response, and Arya found herself engulfed in his embrace once more. "I can't do that, stupid."

"Me neither."

"What are we going to do?" she asked as he placed a soft kiss at the corner of her mouth.

"Let them think we've stopped seeing each other," he said, holding up a finger when she was about to protest. "But only until after my name day. After that, I'll think of something."

"Okay," she whispered. "We need to go back."

Gendry reluctantly agreed, but only until after he has kissed her senseless for the last time that night. They rushed back to the cottage, happy to know that her father has not risen from his sleep, and exchanged more kisses after she crawled through her window.

"Remember, after my name day. But until then, I just might see you at the castle grounds for the festivities."

"You can't get rid of me that easily."

"Sleep tight, Arya Stark."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you for waiting a long time for this update. Like I've said, I'm still in the middle of Leaving Winter, so this story gets a bit delayed.**

**This chapter (and probably the entire story) may contain inconsistencies and I've also apologized for this before, that even if I'm a lover of history, I am not so familiar with the terms used back then. So I'm apologizing in advance for that.**

**And with that, GRRM, you rock my socks.**

* * *

The stands were overflowing with spectators. Although they were mostly people of importance, there were lowborns in attendance too. Arya could see all the different house sigils on silken pennants, waving in the wind for everyone to see. The knights' armors and shields and lances were shining where the sun struck them, temporarily rendering them blind if you fail to turn away. The grounds were a slew of bright-colored tunics and gowns and pretty little hair ornaments. It was a sight to see, but there was only one person she wanted to set her eyes upon.

She found him outside one of the tents set up for the tournament. He was having a conversation with several knights who would be joining the joust to be held in the next hour. He seemed to be enjoying the company of these fine, young men whom Arya figured were sons of some high lord or some other foreign king, perhaps. She stood watching him from afar; being careful not to be noticed by anyone from the kingsguards. He threw his head back as he laughed with the men over some jest one of them told. In her head, she was chanting his name as if he could hear her; willing him to look in her direction, if that would be the only time they would get to acknowledge each other's presence. For Arya, it would be better to see each other from afar than not to see each other at all.

She must have forgotten to breathe when he chanced a glance in her direction. He seemed to have been surprised too. A ghost of a smile was at the corner of his lips, but the knights were all vying for his attention with popular tales of past tournaments. It was, after all, important for knights to be besting each other during competitions. He glanced in her direction again, tilting his head to the right to where his tent was located. She nodded once to let him know that she understood him. Throwing a nod of his own in her direction, he went back to listening in on the conversation around him.

Arya waited at the opposite side where the lesser folk were hustling about; watching in awe as the highborns were mingling with other highborns as they took to the stands one by one. It was closed to being full now, casting an excitement in the air as the knights would soon be besting each other in honor of Prince Gendry's name day. Arya watched as Gendry made to enter his tent, sending a quick glance in her direction that she assumed meant she should follow him soon. With a nervous pounding in her chest, she quickly but cautiously crossed the path towards the tent, careful not to bump into anyone that would cause a scene and give her away. She was literally and figuratively crossing the line between the lesser folk and the highborns, and she knew the king would have her head if she gets caught. If _he_ gets caught because of her.

She was almost at the opening of the tent when someone grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the back. She almost fainted when she saw that it was Ser Yoren, and he was looking at her with disapproving eyes. Arya couldn't find the voice to say anything but Ser Yoren only put his finger to his lips to ask her to be silent. It was only then that Arya realized that Gendry was not alone in the tent. There was three more voices in there; the two she recognized as King Robert's and Queen Cersei's, but the other was unfamiliar to her.

Ser Yoren must have sensed her curiosity because he whispered, "Princess Margaery Tyrell" in a gruff but soft voice. Arya could only nod her head even if she had no idea who she was. As long as the title _Princess_ was stuck before her name, Arya wouldn't be able to question any of it. Princesses will always come first before daughters of blacksmiths who bear no titles to their name.

_"I must thank you, Your Grace, for sending an invitation to Highgarden to join your family in honoring the Prince's name day. It was very gracious of you," said Princess Margaery._

_"Bah!" the King's booming voice filled the tent. "It is but right for you to come join our House Baratheon for the feast! You are, after all, my son's betrothed."_

What?

Arya's breath hitched in her throat. _Betrothed?_ Was it not three days ago when she and Gendry swore to keep their affections a secret but only until after his name day? What in seven hells is going on? She looked up at Ser Yoren and he slowly nodded in confirmation before casting a glance at everywhere but her. Arya's heart pounded twice as fast with the new knowledge for she knew not what happens to them after that turn of events.

"The King has arranged a marriage for the Prince in about six moons from now," explained the kindly Knight. He was looking at her with pity in his eyes that somehow made Arya more irritated than hurt. Did Gendry know all this time that he were to be wed six moons from today?

"I see your worry, child," Ser Yoren observed. "But I assure you that the Prince knew nothing of it until this very moment. I know of your affections for each other, do not fear, for I do not go about gossiping with the King and Queen about the Prince's activities."

"I do know my place, Ser," Arya shot in defense. "And I know that it is not beside the Prince nor is it behind even. That is the way of things," she added, remembering her father's words.

"Is it why you choose to meet the Prince in secret? Because if you do understand the way of things, then why are you sneaking into his tent in secret?"

Arya could not find a suitable response to that so she kept her mouth shut.

It was then that they heard the flurry of skirts and the King's booming laughter as they all emerged from inside. The King and his beautiful Queen stepped out first, to be quickly surrounded by the men of the kingsguard. The Princess Margaery came out next, and beside her was Prince Gendry.

She stared at the Princess. She is very pretty, even prettier than her older Sansa. People used to say that Sansa had their mother's looks and was often mistaken for a highborn, instead of what they truly are. Her beauty is soft and delicate and filled with a grace that belies the fiery red of her hair. But this Princess…she is a sight to behold. Beautiful white, flawless skin that was a stark contrast to her dark, raven hair that fell down to her waist. Her lips were a soft, full red that men would most likely fight over. Her stance was befitting a Princess for a Princess she is. Arya took a few timid steps backward at the realization that she had been playing fire with fire, and Princess Margaery's presence was like a bucket of freezing cold water that was poured over head. It was mind-jarring and eye-opening.

Gendry discreetly turned his head in Ser Yoren's direction, giving him a partial vision of Arya standing behind the knight. The Prince and the Knight spoke volumes with just a simple eye contact, and the Knight quickly understood the meaning behind it.

"Come now, child," Ser Yoren said as he gently led her away by the elbow. "Make haste for the tournament is about to begin. Did you come alone?"

Arya only nodded in response.

"Good," he said. "You can meet the Prince as soon as the joust is over."

Arya had no choice but to be led away.

* * *

The joust had been the highlight of every knight in attendance. The Prince, of course, emerged a victor. The Princess Margaery was, as expected, _Queen of Love and Beauty_. Everyone was rejoicing the Prince's name day and was highly anticipating the feast at the castle that night.

Everyone except Arya.

She left the castle grounds after Ser Yoren led her away from the tents. He wanted to bring her back to where _her people_, the lesser folk, were watching from the side where they would only come next after the nobility. Arya told him she would prefer to return home, and so the kind knight had left her on her way.

_I must return home and cook for supper_, she thought, kicking stones and dirt along her path. Everyone was out there celebrating the Prince's name day, but Arya found no reason to celebrate anymore. _Not everyone has the luxury of having a feast presented on their table for supper. Some of us have to work for it on our own._

It was sometime later that Ned walked into the cottage, finding his daughter putting out rye bread and cheese. She placed a wooden bowl of _sallat _on the table, watching her as she mixed in some lettuce, carrots and turnips, along with some vinegar and oil. She only looked up when he walked over to press a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Do we have enough for supper?" Ned asked as he eyed the food she set out for them.

"I think so," she said. "Were you not invited to the feast?"

"I am. Everyone is, my sweet," Ned explained. "I couldn't find you anywhere, I knew you must be here. Are you not enjoying the feast?"

Arya shrugged. "I'm not one to be excited over noblemen's feasts. That would be Sansa and not me, father."

Ned chuckled. "I would have thought it must have something to do with _someone_ in particular?"

"Perhaps."

"I'm sorry, my sweet. If only there was-"

"Are you hungry, father? I made some _sallat_ because I didn't have time to go out and hunt for rabbits and hares," Arya said with a swift change of topic. "Come sit with me now."

Ned sighed. "I _am_ hungry, but I invited someone to share a meal with us."

Arya's forehead creased. She watched as her father walked back outside and disappeared for a few moments before walking back in, a young lad in tow. She gave a small smile to Edric Dayne, her father's new blacksmith apprentice.

"Arya," Edric nodded to her, returning her smile with one of his own.

Edric Dayne of Starfall. He was the same age as Arya; with pale blond hair that seemed soft to the touch, and dark blue eyes that made it look almost purple. He was usually quiet, at least during the few times she's worked with him and her father at the forge. But he seems nice and has shown potential smithing skills.

"Come sit share supper with us," Arya said as she took a seat on the small table she shares with her father. "It's not much, though."

Edric gave a soft laugh. "Beggars can't be choosers, Arya. I'm not some Lord or Prince who has the luxury of demanding for whatever I want to eat."

Ned watched as his daughter grew quiet at the mention of _prince_. With an affectionate pat on Edric's back, he let the lad take a seat and share their meal.

* * *

"She's not here," Gendry whispered to his loyal knight as he scanned the Great Hall for any sign of Arya.

"No, she's not. But she was almost to your tent earlier. I assume you sent her there?" Ser Yoren whispered back after taking a drink of his wine.

"Yes," he sighed. He moved closer to Ser Yoren, careful not to catch the attention of the others. He wanted to get out of there as quickly as he could and run to Arya, but he knew he had obligations at the castle. And considering it was his name day, it would seem stupid to just up and leave the celebration prepared specifically for the crown prince. "I signaled for her to follow me, but I was surprised to find the King, Queen and Princess Margaery waiting for me inside. I would also assume that you stopped her from walking in?"

Yoren nodded. "Unfortunately, the girl heard about your betrothal to the princess."

Gendry groaned. He wanted to warn Arya about it, but it seems like she has already heard about it from another. This might not be good. "Was she…was Arya angry?"

"She seemed more sad than angry to me."

Gendry nodded in understanding. "I shall seek her out on the morrow and explain."

"And you think this would be a good idea? You do know that the King has forbidden you to see her. And with all due respect, my Prince, but you can't expect anything more to come out of this?"

"Thank you, Ser Yoren," Gendry said, completely avoiding his question. "I shall need your assistance on the morrow, for when I seek Arya out to explain."

The knight only bowed his head and stepped back.

Just then, a soul-wrenching shout was heard from outside. The knights and guard in attendance were quick to react for they rushed out to see what has caused someone's distress.

"Your Grace!" one of King Robert's guards came rushing into the Great Hall. More shouts and screams were heard from outside. "Your Grace! The Freys! The Freys have come to the Red Keep! They attack us, Your Grace!"

Everyone in the hall started shouting and rushing about in panic. The King quickly ordered his men to take Queen Cersei and Prince Gendry away to some place safe, as he quickly gained command of his men. The other guests were running from the Great Hall n search of somewhere safer, anywhere but here. The screams and shrieks of men, women and children were heard echoing the halls.

In the sole instance of letting their guard down, the castle had been infiltrated by the Frey traitors. Because of an unsettled dispute between power and honor, House Frey have come to King's Landing to kill each and every member of House Baratheon. And they were close to successfully doing so.

Gendry watched in horror as their guests were kicked and stabbed and slashed to their death. The kingsguards were fighting to their death in order to protect the castle and its inhabitants, but because of a momentary act of weakness, House Baratheon was quickly losing to the enemy.

"Gendry! My son! Run! Run!"

Gendry watched as the blade thrust from King Robert's back and straight through his chest, piercing flesh and hitting bone and aiming right through his heart. "NO! Father!" Gendry screamed, but hands were pulling him away from the Great Hall and on to somewhere he knew not. He could hear his Queen mother cry out amidst the screams of tortured souls that were begging to be done with the pain being inflicted on them. His initial grief turned to shock, and Gendry finally let himself be led by Ser Yoren and the other knights. He could no longer see nor hear his mother as he was dragged outside, not even wondering nor caring about where he should go.

"We shall bring you to safety, _Your Grace_," Ser Yoren huffed against his ear. And for a moment, Gendry suddenly became aware of that one thing: He was now _King Gendry_, son of the slain King Robert, and only Heir to the Iron Throne. He looked at Ser Yoren with glassy eyes, and the older man put a hand on his shoulder before they continued on to safety.

"Your Queen mother will be sent to safety too, Your Grace, so you need not worry. But we need to take you away this night, and fast, for you are now the young King and protector of your people. You cannot do that when you are dead, Your Grace," Yoren ended with a hard glare in his eye. "And I know now where to bring you."

"Eddard Stark!"

Ned, Arya and Edric were startled by the loud banging of the cottage door. They were still sitting around the kitchen table although the plates had already been wiped clean. They were having a nice conversation until a noise could be heard from outside the cottage. With a troubled look, Ned quickly crossed the room and opened the door to reveal a frightened-looking Prince Gendry on his doorstep.

"Ned," Yoren growled close to his ear, for everything he must say must be for Ned's ears only. "The castle was attached by the Frey traitors. King Robert was slain, which means the young prince who's currently under your roof, is now the Baratheon king. You need to take him to somewhere safe, possibly far away from here. Queen Cersei had been sent off to Dorne for her own safety. We cannot have them travel together because it is too dangerous."

"What would you have me do, Ser Yoren?" Ned asked, his heart pounding fast in his chest.

"Take the king to Winterfell," Yoren replied with a stubborn look on his face. "Let him seek refuge in your winter solace."

"What of his people? What of us?" Ned asked softly, as if knowing the answer already but needing to hear it out loud."

"Dead," the knight answered. "Even the Princess Margaery is missing, and I know not if she lives or faced death."

Ned nodded in affirmation. "I will take the King to Winterfell. My family will protect him there."

"For now," Ser Yoren added.

Ned nodded his head again. "Aye, for now."

"Your Grace," Ned said as he walked closer to the young man. He saw that his eyes were focused on Arya and the young apprentice beside her. Ned decided to take the more important matter first and ignore the young King's sudden look of jealousy that crossed his face.

"Your Grace," Ned said a little louder this time. "Have you ever been to Winterfell?"


	6. Chapter 6

Arya watched him as he trudged along with the group; his face a mask of mixed emotions running across it every once in a while. She saw sadness, hurt, emptiness, shock, anger…everything he was going through internally was being reflected with every flash of emotion on his face. But the one she felt most was the pain.

Gendry looked very much like her youngest brother, Rickon, did the day they left for King's Landing. Like his father has left him in Winterfell to be alone and helpless.

But Arya wanted to tell Gendry that he is not alone and he is not helpless. She wanted to talk to him, to hug him tightly in her arms, but what kept her from doing is the fact that Rickon still had a father who would return to him every now and then.

Gendry's father would no longer be able to do that.

So she kept up with the others but made sure he was always in her line of sight. If Gendry needed to talk to anyone, she would be there in an instant. But for now, she kept her distance and gave him his space. The gods know he needed that.

"We should be safe to camp here for the night," called out one of the guards.

It was the third day since they set off for Winterfell. There were a measly five members of the kingsguards, Ned, Arya, Edric and Gendry. _He's King Gendry now,_ Arya thought to herself. Ser Yoren had to leave for Dorne for the Queen, since no one was more capable to see to her travels than Ser Yoren and his men. And besides, if he were to travel with this group for Winterfell, outsiders would immediately guess that the King was traveling along with them. They couldn't afford to lose the King and so he must be left with the care of the five able kingsguards and Ned Stark.

They found a small clearing near a river that her father said flows in the direction of the north. They had been following it the entire time, watching for the moss growing in trees as an added clue. One of the guards was originally a man of the north and has confirmed that this indeed was the way.

"Gather our supplies, my love," Ned said to Arya as she got off her horse. "I'm afraid we can't risk starting a fire out here. It's too dangerous. We might have to settle for bread, cheese, and a few more salted pork left over from last night. Do you think we have enough?"

Arya went through their satchel of food and checked their rations. "There is enough for everyone," she replied. "How long should we keep traveling? If we keep on for a few more days, the food might not last until then."

Ned nodded in understanding. "If we keep up this pace, we might be home the day after tomorrow."

"And if there are no complications," Arya said with a nod.

"No complications, yes," Ned agreed with a slow nod. He looked around the group of travelers and noticed that Gendry was not with them. In a moment of panic, Ned called out to the guard closest to him and asked where the king was.

"He needed a moment alone," said the guard. "Didn't want to leave him alone but he threatened to cut off my man parts if he was not allowed to leave."

"He's not gone far, anyway. I made sure of that," said another guard, pointing to the right-most part of the woods. "I make sure to check on him every few minutes."

Ned looked at his daughter and he knew she understood him. She nodded before leaving, handing the satchel over to him before she went on her way to find the king.

* * *

She found him sitting by a fallen tree trunk in a small area a little further away from their camp site. He was sitting on the grassy floor, legs folded to his chest, arms and head leaning on his knees. At that moment, Arya didn't know if she should approach or just leave him be. But she found her answer when his body started wracking with sobs, it drew her towards him for support.

He was startled a bit; angry even when he looked up but his face turned somewhat controlled as soon as he realized that it was her. He wiped his tears with the back of his hand, as if his attempt at being discreet could still salvage what little dignity he had left after being caught crying. Kings do not cry in the presence of others, that much he was taught.

But this was Arya, and maybe he was allowed to cry even for just a day.

"What do you want?" he snapped, although he cringed inwardly after realizing it. Arya was not at fault nor did she deserve his anger, but he couldn't help it. This just wasn't his week.

"I just wanted to see how you were faring," Arya said as she took small steps towards him. "May I?" she asked, signaling to the space beside him.

"Why? Your new _friend_ is going to miss you," he spat out, his voice resentful at the word _friend_.

Typical Arya would have rolled her eyes at him and called him stupid, but today was not Typical Arya's day. She would have to be Patient Arya if she wanted to get through him and his grief.

"_Your Grace,_" she said, putting a stress on the title. "I merely wanted to ask how you were, that's all."

"I'm fine. Now go back to your friend."

Arya sighed. "You Grace-"

"Stop calling me that!"

"But you _are_ king now. Your people would have my head on a spike if I keep calling you by your name."

"Did it matter before, Arya?" he asked, his eyes boring into hers, leaving her intimidated by the weight of it. "Back when I was just a prince? Did it matter to you?"

"No."

"Why would it matter now?"

Arya inhaled deeply and exhaled as she took the space beside him, mimicking his position. "Besides your new responsibility?"

Gendry just stared at her, not answering.

"You weren't betrothed before."

Arya heard him mutter a curse under his breath. He raked his fingers through his hair before dragging his hands over his face. He was silent for a moment, save for the few muttered curses he let out in frustration. "I didn't know my Father planned something like that, Arya. Believe me. I only found out at that moment in the tent."

"When you called for me?" Arya snorted. "I began to think you actually wanted me to hear about it instead of telling it to my face."

"Do you think me a vile person? Do you think I would do that to you?" Gendry said, the anger back in his voice.

Arya had to remember that it wasn't really Gendry talking but the anger and sadness and frustration over the incident of the past few days. Still, not being a patient person, she was struggling hard to not meet his anger with her own temper.

"I don't. But seeing as you're angry and hurting right now, maybe it would be best if I leave you be for now. I'll come back with your supper."

Arya stood abruptly and started walking back to camp, leaving a surprised Gendry sitting there with his mouth agape. She was only a few steps further when she heard him calling out her name.

"Please…"

It was what got through her. _Please_, he had called out to her with anguish in his voice. She turned back to him and found him crouching there, whether he was about to get up or keeping himself anchored to the ground, she didn't know. But his face was scrunched up in agony, as if he were about to cry a second time. Feeling her chest constrict and her throat choke back tears. She crossed the space between them and fell to the ground beside him, engulfing his larger frame into her smaller one. He welcomed her comforting arms; pressing his face onto the crook of her neck and started crying once more.

Arya's heart broke. This wasn't Gendry. The person she was holding in her arms right now was just a broken man; a shell of the person she knew him to be. She held him tighter, as if her arms would bring her Gendry back and not this sad, hurt, angry person pretending to be Gendry.

"It's okay," Arya whispered as she caressed the hair on his nape, feeling him shudder from it. "I'm sorry about your father. I'm sorry about your people. I'm sorry that you're going through all this."

Gendry buried his face deeper into her neck, as if he was breathing in her scent for comfort and drowning in her skin for strength.

"I'm sorry for everything you're going through, Gendry. But you don't have to do it alone."

And she thinks she hears him sob louder and hold him tighter, and Arya didn't know what to do except to keep holding on. She later realizes that she's sitting on his lap, his arms wound tightly around her back, his face now buried on her chest. "Before my name day…we…my father and I…we had a row," he said, his sobs finally quieting down. "He forbade me to see you, and I was just so angry at him for keeping me from seeing that one person who makes me happy."

Arya pulled away a bit. "I…I make you happy?"

"Shut up," he said, pulling her back towards him. "You know that you do."

Arya only chuckled. "King for three days but already a bossy bit of sorts."

"You're a bad influence."

"Very funny, _Your Grace_."

"Stop calling me that."

"Did you just growl?"

"I'm a stag. Stags don't growl."

"Well, you're a bull too."

This time, Gendry laughed softly, pulling her head down to his and kissed her. She missed this, she realized, and she met his kiss with equal ardor. He seemed hungry for this-for her-and she reveled in the feel of his soft lips slanting over hers, over and over again. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip; seeking entrance until she opened her mouth and gave it to him. Her tongue danced with his; around and around within the hot depths of her mouth. She felt him shiver when she slightly pulled away, pulling his lower lip with her teeth until she let go. He gasped at the feeling of her tongue and her teeth, pleasure and pain mixed together, and he loved it.

"Gendry…" she whispered when she felt his soft lips trail kisses down her throat, smiling against her skin when she felt her breath hitch for the umpteenth time during their little play. "We should-"

"Your Grace!"

"Arya!"

That jolted them out of their stupor. Arya quickly scrambled off his lap, straightening her skirts which were already dirtied by the grassy forest floor. Gendry was slower to recover, because she noticed that he was trying to keep the hard evidence in his breeches. She covered her mouth to stifle her laugh, and Gendry glared at her as he opted to hug his knees closer to his chest to keep his arousal hidden. Arya pursed her lips to keep the laughter in, taking mercy on him and his obvious discomfort and embarrassment.

"Your Grace, is everything alright?" asked one of the guards. Arya didn't even bother finding out their names because they would be in Winterfell the day after tomorrow, what's the use? They minded their own business anyway, thinking that even the kingsguards were better than blacksmiths and their daughters.

Gendry waved him away. "Everything's fine, Rodrick. I'll be back soon."

The guard named Rodrick sent Arya a suspicious glare before taking his leave. Ned stepped forward then, sending Arya almost the same kind of glare Rodrick sent her, although she felt more threatened by this. He looked at the king who was still hunched by the fallen tree trunk, looking as sheepish and guilty as Arya was.

"Arya, you were supposed to hand out the men's supper."

"I'm sorry, Father. I'll see to it now."

"No need," Ned said with a deep sigh. "I've already given them theirs. Here," he said, handing over a cloth that was somewhat used as a wrapping. "You can take part of the bread and cheese. There's salted pork and ale is for Your Grace. Serve him the bigger chunk of bread and cheese."

Arya nodded obediently, seeing to the preparing the food immediately.

"I apologize, Your Grace. Our rations are not as fitting for a king as we would like you to have but-"

Gendry finally stood, walking towards Ned. "Please do not apologize. I am fine with just bread and cheese and the ale. Arya needs the food more, skinny girl that she is."

Arya threw him a glare. "Shut up!"

Ned gave her a pointed look, his mouth a grim line. Arya gave a small shrug and said, "Shut up, _Your Grace._"

Gendry threw his head back and laughed. Ned looked even more appalled than he was earlier, clearing his throat for lack of a better thing to do. "You have a feisty one in your hands, Ned. I assume she keeps you on your toes?"

Ned only gave a slight bow as affirmation.

Gendry grinned widely. "I'm sure. She keeps me on my toes, too."

* * *

He watched her sitting across him, laughing at something this blacksmith apprentice said. He hasn't seen her this happy since they left King's Landing. He wanted to be the one to make her laugh, but thinking back on those last couple of hours where he unloaded a bucketful of tears and list filled with _his_ problems, he was angry at himself that he wasn't the one making her laugh right now. _Who the hell does this apprentice think he is? _

Ned said something to his apprentice - what in seven hells is his name? Henry? Henrich?

"You're stupid, Edric! Not everyone who wears an armor is a knight! Anyone can buy armor!" Arya said with a laugh.

_Ahh, Edric. And did she just call him stupid? I thought I was stupid?_

"Would you like to retire now, Your Grace?" one of the guards asked him. "We've set up a tent for you. You may retire, if you wish so, Your Grace."

"Thank you," was all Gendry could say.

He caught Arya's eye before she stood to stow what few possessions they had and the leftover food. She told her father that she would retire now as she was quite tired. Gendry saw that they had bedrolls laid out for themselves, and only one tent was erect. He frowned upon realizing that his companions were to bed out there, under the night sky, vulnerable to any possible danger. He knew he was king now, but could he demand that a hierarchy of social statuses be followed when these men and this girl were endangering their lives to bring him to safety?

"Will you be sleeping out here?" Gendry asked Ned when he approached the kind blacksmith.

"Aye, Your Grace. I would apologize again for the small tent as it was the only one we could find at a short notice."

"There's plenty of room, enough for us all. My guards will sleep out, they're trained for that."

"We'll manage out here, Your Grace," added the apprentice.

_Huh._

Gendry turned to look at him. "Edric, is it? You think Arya's safe to sleep in the open, when danger lurks everywhere?"

Edric met his gaze without wavering. "I know how to fight, Your Grace."

Gendry snorted. "I'm sure."

"What does that mean?" came his reply, forgetting his courtesies at that moment.

"Edric," Ned called out with a warning tone.

"I do _know_ that you are king, _Your Grace_," Edric said, the sarcasm dripping with every word. "But your being king does not mean everyone below you in rank is useless."

"I wonder where you get your theories because _you_ don't know _me_," Gendry replied.

"And _you_ don't know _me_," said Edric. "_Your Grace_."

"Are you daft, boy?" Ned said as soon as Gendry left, anger lacing his voice. "That was the king you were arguing with! He could have your head in a spike!"

"I see the way he looks at Arya and it's the same way for her! She'd only end up hurt because someone of her rank will never be allowed to be with someone of his rank. She deserves someone who would care for her, even if he were just a lowborn."

_Ahh. Ned can finally see what Edric meant._

"And by that, you mean someone like you?" Ned asked with raised brows.

Edric was silent.

"Do you forget that it is her father you are speaking with this moment? Watch your words, boy. You came here to smith, not to take my daughter's hand in marriage. Go get some sleep. We rise early on the morrow."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews & new follows/favorites for the last chapter. Okay, I have to say nothing much happens on this one. I can see that this one's going to end soon; I do have an idea what I want to happen in the next chapters but at the same time, I'm kind of at a loss at how to do it. I love reading about medieval stuff and I love the whole ASoIaF setting, but I find it hard to write off the modern setting because, well, there's just too many terms & customs/traditions to take into consideration, otherwise the way the story will come out will not be as effective as I'd like it to be. I try to research of course, but still, it's quite hard :(**

**Thank you again for reading & I'm sorry for the long A/N! So same as before-GRRM is the man.**

* * *

"Mother! They're here! They're here!"

Rickon ran towards one of the few large cottages in the middle of the village. He was out playing with one of the village boys, playing with wooden swords as if they were knights. They stopped as soon as they heard several hoofbeats pounding their way towards the entrance to the village. There were about five men dressed as kingsguards from King's Landing; he knew because he'd been there about twice before his father and sister left Winterfell. He noticed two young men riding on horseback, too, although one of them looked to be with a very _kingly_ aura to him. And then he saw the two people he missed most in the world. It was then that he dropped his play sword and ran towards the Stark's meager home.

"Mother! Bran! They're here! Father and Arya are here!"

"What? How can that be?" Catelyn Stark asked, holding her youngest son by the arm as if questioning the reason for his excitement. "Rickon, I know you miss Father and Arya, but they're back in King's Landing."

Rickon shook his head. "No! They're here! Can't you hear the approaching horses, Mother? Father and Arya are here! Come see!"

"What's going on, Mother?"

Catelyn turned to look at her fifth son Bran, as he stood by the door of one of the three rooms in the house. He was reading the book that their neighbor, Maester Luwin, had been teaching him to read. When heard Rickon making a ruckus out there, he decided to come out and look.

"Your brother says he saw Father and Arya arrive on horses," she said to Bran, before turning to give Rickon a stern look. "But we know that Father and Arya are in King's Landing and can only return home during the holidays."

"But it's true, Mother! Listen!" Rickon argued, tugging on his mother's skirt to get her to listen.

Catelyn sighed but listened all the same; looking from Rickon to Bran until her face became one of surprise and wonder.

Hoofbeats, indeed.

Rickon's face suddenly split into a grin before he dashed out of the cottage, an equally excited Bran at his heels. Catelyn picked up her skirts and quickly rushed off towards the same direction. Seeing the arriving party, she placed one hand over her mouth and one hand on her chest, as if to help slow down her fast-beating heart.

"Ned!" Catelyn cried out in joy as she rushed over to her husband. He had just hopped off his horse when his wife came crashing into his embrace, laughing as she held on to him for quite some time.

"I missed you, my love," Ned said as he kissed his wife, wiping the tears on her face with his thumbs.

"And I you," she replied in between sobs. "Where's Arya?"

"If you let go of Father for a moment, you'll find that I am here," Arya said, stepping down her horse and into her mother's outstretched arms.

"Silly child! You are the same Arya as you left Winterfell," Catelyn said, laughing in between kissing her youngest daughter's forehead and cheeks. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," Arya said with a smile. "And you two," she said to Bran and Rickon, as she disentangled herself from Catelyn's embrace. "Since when did you both grow to be almost tall as me?" She gave them a hug each, ruffling their hair in the process, although it was only Rickon who smacked her hand away.

"Your Grace," Ned said, walking towards the young king, who had just gotten off his horse. "I wish to present you to my family. My wife, Catelyn whom I fondly call Cat," he said, bringing her closer to him. She did her curtsies as she had been taught as a young girl. Next, signaled to his youngest sons to come forward. "My boys, Brandon and Rickon."

Gendry nodded to each of them in acknowledgement; smiling as he saw how genuinely surprised and pleased the Starks were upon their arrival. He tried to push the image of his father and mother from his mind. There would be time to mourn as soon as he is away from inquiring eyes.

As if suddenly realizing that they were attracting the attention of the other villagers, Ned let them inside their home, signaling to Bran, Rickon and Arya to take care of the horses. As if pleased to be given something important to do, the two young boys started off by taking the horses by the reins to lead them to the barn. They loved the task of brushing down the horses after a day's ride, and were happy to be given the task now.

"I'll be back soon," Arya whispered to Gendry, waiting until he nodded in understanding, before she took her leave.

The moment did not go unnoticed by Catelyn.

Knowing that there were more pressing matters to attend to, she mentally shook herself back to alertness and showed the men inside their cottage. It would be a tight squeeze, but they would have to make do with anything offered to them right now. After all, Catelyn was not prepared to take in seven men to her home, not including her husband and daughter.

"My eldest sons, Robb and Jon are threshing and hedging in the fields since this morn," she said, offering the men some bread, cheese and ale for the moment. "My daughter Sansa had just left moments ago to bring them food."

"Cat," Ned said as soon as she stood by his side. "There's something we need to talk about."

* * *

"Does he have the biggest room in the castle?" Rickon asked as he patted the mare's nose affectionately.

Arya gave a soft laugh. "I don't know, really. I assume he may have since he is the son of the king. Although he is king now."

Bran's eyes bulged. "We have a king under our roof?"

"Quiet, Brandon!" Arya hissed. "There are things that need to be discussed amongst us, but for now, you two brats best not reveal to anyone who we have with us."

Arya has just undone the cinch and was now lifting the saddle off the horse's back. Rickon, usually the feisty one, was obviously not content with the explanation. "You're going to have to tell us more than that," he said with a frown.

"Later," was all she could say.

They worked in silence afterwards; brushing down the horses' hair and checking the hooves, before leading them towards the stalls that Robb and Jon made for their own horses.

"Are you brats ready to go back?" Arya asked as soon as they were done; immediately thinking about warm food to fill her belly and spending more time with Gendry.

As soon as they walked inside the house, a flurry of skirts and red hair flashed before her and soon enough, Arya felt arms going around her small form. Even if they didn't get along so well, Sansa is still her sister and so she realized that she did miss her a lot. With a laugh, her arms went around her sister's too.

"I missed how annoying you are!" Sansa said with a giggle.

Arya rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the kind words."

"No, really! I missed you, my sister!"

"If I may interrupt, m'ladies. I find I have a need to embrace this little stick of a girl we call sister."

"Robb!"

Arya flew into the eldest Stark brother's arms, chuckling at the feel of his hard chest against her cheek and the feel of his strong, muscular arms as they went around her small frame.

"I missed you too, Arya," he said when he pulled away.

"Jon!" Arya exclaimed, jumping into her other brother's embrace, hugging her until she felt she couldn't breathe anymore.

"Nobody missed you as much as I did," Jon said with a smile.

"Have you lot met Gendry?" Arya asked, turning to look at him as he sat on one of the few wooden benches in the house.

Robb nodded. "Father has explained what happened to…" his voice trailed off when he felt embarrassed to say any more.

"Our home is open to you and your men, Your Grace," Catelyn said to the young man, offering him the warmth of their simple home and the welcoming arms of her family. "It is not as you are used to, but we can make do with what little we have."

"I am most grateful, my lady," Gendry said. "But my guards shall start traveling again on the morrow and be off to Dorne to find my mother."

"You're the only one to be left in Winterfell?" Arya asked, keeping the excitement from showing a little in her voice.

"Aye," Ned replied. "Him and Edric will be left in Winterfell. Edric here," Ned addressed his family, as he waved a hand towards the young man. "Was my apprentice in King's Landing. He shall be my apprentice still, but in Winterfell."

Arya watched as Edric's chest puffed in pride. As much as she enjoyed Edric's company, he and Gendry had a slightly amusing competiton against each other. Arya was not sure why, but she often saw them bickering and besting each other out. She figured it was something men usually did, and so she let them have their little strife going on. Arya almost laughed when she saw Gendry roll his eyes at Edric; the latter oblivious to such childish display by the king.

"Remember, no one must know that he is currently the holding the title to the Iron Throne. The villagers will not question why there are kingsguards in our company for they do know that Arya and I were under the service of the late King Robert," Ned's voice slowed at the mention of Gendry's father. "But they need not know that King Gendry is to live under the care of the Starks. No one can know."

All heads nodded in agreement.

"The guards will leave on the morrow, so it's best to have supper before you all retire. The Peach has suitable accommodations, I assume?" Ned turned to question Cat, who nodded in agreement.

Ned turned back to face Gendry. "Would you like to learn how to wield tongs and hammers, Your Grace?"

"I beg your pardon?" Gendry asked.

"The forge, Your Grace. Let's see how well you would do as an apprentice smith."

* * *

"So I am supposed to pump the bellows, cut nails from forged strips, file rand grind ough edges and polish finished work?"

It was the afternoon of the next day when Ned decided to show Gendry the forge. Ned nodded to answer his question, picking up a few tools to show Gendry. "This, Your Grace…"

"Gendry. We are to fool people into thinking I am just a blacksmith, remember?"

Edric snorted at the word _just_. A work as honorable as this deserves to be taken with pride, not by thinking he is _just_ an apprentice smith. But then again, he _is_ a king after all.

"_Gendry_," Ned started again, although he looked like he was about to choke on his own tongue. "This heavy block of iron is called an _anvil_. We shape hot metals by hammering them on this. This one here is a pair of _tongs_," Ned proceeded to show him what tools were to be used for their work. "The _bellows_, _hammers, sledgehammers, fuller, swage and swage block_, _punches_ that we use for making holes_, an axe, a chisel_…"

Gendry stared at the variety of tools that Ned was showing him; doing his best to remember every single detail. He knew some of those, since there was a time when he hung out with their old castle smith, Tobho Mott.

"Is it heavy?" Gendry asked, pointing to the large sledgehammer on the wooden table.

"Let's see you lift that thing," Edric snorted a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest as if to dare him.

Gendry glared at him, choosing to ignore his jibe. He walked towards the table, ran the tips of his fingers along the wooden handle…

"I bet your arms are puny from doing _kingly_ things instead of hard labor," Edric added a taunt in his direction.

Gendry proved him wrong by lifting a sledgehammer in each hand.

Ned chuckled, taking a piece of iron metal and tongs. "Let's get work started here. The gods know there are enough for us to do, now that the entire village knows that I am back with two more smiths."

* * *

"He's getting on my nerves," Gendry said as he tore of a piece of the barley bread Arya brought for him.

"Who? My father?" Arya asked.

"Yes, your father, Arya," Gendry said with sarcasm. "Edric. Edric is getting on my nerves."

"Edric's nice. I don't know why you're both acting like children, competing against each other for some inane reason that I probably don't want to know."

They were in the barn, sitting on the hay-strewn floor, stealing time away from the others. Arya missed being home, but right now, she needed to be alone with Gendry even if it meant getting hay in her hair and all over her breeches.

"What are you wearing anyway?" Gendry asked, pointing at her clothes. "Why are you dressed like your little brothers, anyway?"

"Once in a while, I borrow Bran's clothes because they make riding or hunting easier than when I'm wearing stupid dresses," Arya said, throwing bits and pieces of the hay by their feet.

"I bet you make your mother very proud," Gendry said with a laugh.

"Certainly," Arya laughed along.

"So," Gendry said, pulling hay out of her hair. "You think we could take a swim at the stream nearby?"

"Ahhh…trying to get lucky now, are we?"

"Don't flatter yourself, m'lady. I just wanted to take a bath."

"You don't need me to take a bath. And you can't call me m'lady."

"Maybe I need someone to wash my back for me."

Arya sighed. "Gods, I've been reduced to washing backs. Should I serve you your supper now, Your Grace? Polish your armor? Maybe I should scrub your castle floors and hang the tapestries now, Your Grace? Would that be all?"

"Why don't you empty my chamber pot too, while you're at it."

Arya threw hay at him. "You're a bossy bit of sorts."

Gendry leaned closer, fighting laughter that was threatening to erupt at any moment now. Arya had hay sticking out of her hair, and Gendry had no plans of telling her so. The brat has to suffer too, sometimes.

"So…meet me by the stream tonight?" he whispered.

"You do realize that you are sharing a room with my brothers, do you?" Arya asked.

"I find that I'm quite good with sneaking out."

"I know that," Arya stood, shaking the hay out of her hair. "Let's see how sneaky you can be."

Gendry stood and took mercy on her, plucking the hay out of her tousled hair. "And please, keep your wolves in here. They're quite…large."

"Ha! You're afraid of them!"

"You do know that your pets share the same traits as each of you, right?"

"Maybe I can send Nymeria with you instead. She's very good with scrubbing backs. I trained her well."

"Huh."

"Fine," Arya said, going on tiptoes and touching his lips with hers for a quick kiss. "Don't be late."


	8. Chapter 8

"How is he?"

Ned looked up from washing his hands in the stream behind the forge to see Arya approach, carrying two buckets  
for fetching water. He whisked away the excess water from his hands, wiping the last of it on his breeches before  
getting on his feet.

"The young king has definitely surprised me. The boy must have been born with a hammer in his hands," Ned said  
with a chuckle.

Arya's eyes widened. "You mean…you mean he's doing the blacksmith cover pretty well?" A grin split across her face  
now. "Wait! I have to see this!"

Ned kissed her on the forehead. "Why don't you bring his noon meal and see for yourself?"

As soon as Arya was done fetching water for her mother - it took her two trips to and from the river - she asked  
Catelyn if she could bring Gendry his meal. Catelyn regarded her with wary eyes; watching the smile brightening  
up her face and the pink flush on her cheeks as soon as his name was said. Ned had already warned Catelyn about  
Gendry and Arya, making her shake her head in both disbelief and amusement.

Catelyn sighed deeply. "Why can't you even remember your courtesies, Arya? That boy is King now. You mustn't call  
him by his name. It isn't proper!"

Arya huffed. "You know full well, Mother, that there is no proper bone in my body! And aren't we supposed to keep  
his identity whilst he's here? I can't keep calling him King Gendry if we're to keep his being a king a secret."

Her mother placed her hands on her hips and faced her fully now. "Do you see anyone here with us, hmm? When we  
are alone, you must call him by his title, young lady."

"I'm not a lady either."

Catelyn threw her hands up in surrender. "Take half the loaf of bread on the table and this stew, and put it in the  
basket over there," she said, pointing to the wicker basket hanging with the pots and pans. "And bring him ale or  
water with honey if he wishes. I'm not sure what Kings are supposed to eat but I'm certain it is not what we're  
having," she said with another deep sigh and a hand to her forehead.

"Gendry will eat anything you make, Mother," Arya said, putting stress on the name. "He's not stupid to make choices  
now that he knows he doesn't have everything he wants. Everyone thinks he's some spoiled brat who would demand  
anything out of everyone, but he's not."

Arya took the basket and filled it with the food, before approaching her mother to press a soft kiss on her cheek.  
"Gendry's different."

* * *

Arya heard Edric's laughter as she approached the forge. She rolled her eyes, bracing herself for another one of  
Edric's taunts directed towards Gendry. She would have smacked him upside the head if she only could, because  
Gendry was too gallant to do it on his own.

She slowly walked through the door, quiet as a shadow, and paused to place the basket of food on the work table  
nearby. It was extremely hot in there; the flames roaring in the hearth where Edric was heating some piece of metal  
for shaping. He was laughing as he worked; sending taunts to Gendry, who appears to be busy with something at  
his work table. Arya could see his brows furrowed in concentration; ignoring Edric's annoying jeers and insults and

keeping to himself as he worked. She couldn't see exactly what he was doing, but it seemed small and intricate  
otherwise she would have seen it already.

"You have royal hands. No one expects you to come up with anything half decent as this dented armor I'm fixing!"  
Edric said, pounding the hammer over the metal and anvil. "Your hands are probably as soft as Arya's!"

Gendry's ears perked at the mention of her name. "And what do you know about Arya's hands? Have you touched  
them?"

"No, he hasn't," Arya stepped in to interrupt the brewing argument. It was already hot in the forge; she didn't want it  
to get more hot because of some stupid fight.

She carried the basket over to Gendry's table; smiling when he looked up to give her a bright smile. The thing he  
was working on was now tucked safely inside his apron pocket, making Arya wonder why Gendry's suddenly so  
secretive. With a half shrug, she started taking out the food from the basket, placing them in front of Gendry and  
almost laughing at his delighted expression.

Edric looked over at the food on the table and realized that there was only half a loaf of bread, a bowl of stew, a  
mug of ale and three pieces of lemon cakes. It wasn't even enough for all three of them.

"The food's not enough for three," Edric said, peering inside the basket to check if anything else was inside.

"Mother said you should have your noon meal with them," Arya said. "Oh! And call from Bran and Rickon, they're  
somewhere out here playing with Summer and Shaggydog."

"Aren't you going to eat?" Gendry asked, smelling the heavenly scent of freshly-cooked stew and bread. His stomach  
grumbled in both hunger and excitement, but trying his best not to grab everything laid out in front of him.

"I'll just have a piece of this lemon cake," she said, taking the smallest piece and biting on it. She mumbled in  
delight. She looked up to see Edric still standing there, his forehead creased in the middle. "Go now, or my mother  
will whack your bum with a wooden spoon if you keep them waiting for long!"

He trudged across the forge with heavy feet; muttering under his breath about hogging all the time with Arya and  
stupid noon meal meetings in the forge.

"I told you he gets in my nerves," Gendry grumbled in between bites of the bread and spoonfuls of stew. "Every  
single day, we come in here, and he insults my skills at being an apprentice! I have to bite my tongue to keep  
from shooting back an insult! You should try staying in the same room with him," he said, his cheeks puffing with  
mouthful of food. "He gets so annoying, I just want to throw this hammer at his head and laugh! Your father's  
presence keeps me calm, though."

Arya laughed softly. "My father has that effect on people, in all honesty."

"You do, too," Gendry said, pausing from shoving food in his mouth to give her a shy glance.

"I do what?"

"Your presence keeps me calm, too," Gendry muttered, half embarrassed and half annoyed. "And don't make me say  
it again!"

Arya took a small pinch of the bread and threw it at him, bursting out in laughter when he caught it in his open  
mouth. When the teasing mood passed and a comfortable silence passed between them, she felt his large hand  
crawl on top of her small one; sending shivers from her fingertips straight up the entire length of her arm. She  
fought the urge to shiver, although she knew he must have felt it anyway.

"What were you working on earlier, anyway?" Arya asked, stealing half of Gendry's lemon cake.

"Nothing," he muttered, touching the thing inside his apron pocket.

Arya wondered if he even knew he was unconsciously touching his pocket, but Arya sighed and just let the matter  
go. "Are you eating this?" she asked, pointing to the other half of the lemon cake she half-stole.

Gendry laughed. "Go on, then. You could probably eat all three pieces if only I didn't beat you to the other one."

He watched as she devoured the last half piece; humming happily as she licked the crumbs off her lips, making  
Gendry groan almost inaudibly.

"Do you still want to meet by the lake tonight?" he asked, raising hopeful eyes to her. He noticed her blush before  
she nodded.

"Go on, then," he said, placing the bowl and mug inside the basket. "I can't be distracted by you and I have tasks to  
finish."

Arya stared at him but he refused to catch her eye. With a smirk, walked up to him and placed a soft kiss on his  
cheek before heading out the door, leaving a laughing Gendry in her wake.

* * *

"Sssh, Rickon! They mustn't hear us!"

Bran put a finger up his lips to keep his youngest brother quiet. They were crawling behind a bush near the lake,  
spying over their sister and the king.

"What are they doing now?" whispered Rickon, as he tried to nudge Bran into giving him a better view. Bran moved  
a little to the right to make way for his brother, before sitting back down on his haunches.

"They're swimming!" Rickon whispered excitedly, bouncing a bit in place until Bran pinched his arm. "Ow!"

"I told you to keep it down, stupid! We can't let them know we're spying on them!"

"I just want to know if Arya and Gendry are swimming naked!" Rickon hissed back, giving Bran another little nudge.

They watched as their sister and the young king swam to and fro in the water, playfully splashing each other and  
laughing. Arya was wearing her smallclothes, thank the gods, Bran thought. Gendry, however, was bare at the top.

Rickon laughed quietly. "Father and Mother would have her hide if they find out Arya's playing in the water with  
Gendry!"

"Then we can't tell them that, can we?" Bran said, his eyes still following the other two's every move.

They were so close to each other now; Gendry seemingly teasing Arya by wading slowly towards her in the water.  
Arya had a stupid grin on her face that Bran recognized so well. It usually meant she was up to something; usually it  
put her in trouble.

"Seven hells! Bran! Look! They're kissing!" Rickon exclaimed almost loudly.

Bran stared as Arya and Gendry kissed; something he hasn't seen his parents do before. It was a different kind of  
kiss. It was like the one Robb gave this girl Jeyne several moons ago, and that almost got her pregnant.

Almost got her pregnant.

"Rickon! The king might get Arya pregnant! We have to stop them!" Bran exclaimed, pinching the little boy's arm  
until he gave a little squeal.

"Ow, Bran!" Rickon said, pulling his arm away. "I know! I know! Remember when we were spying on Robb and  
Jeyne and we saw them without their smallclothes on? Remember when she almost had a baby before her father  
took her away?"

Bran nodded. "Right! We need to keep Arya from having a baby! You know what this means, right?"

Rickon nodded enthusiastically. "Operation save the sister from sinning!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for the delay. Thanks to those who still read this & to those who post reviews, especially the consistent ones :)**

**I've decided that I'm ending this story after just a few more chapters - say, 1 to 3 - because it wasn't even meant to run long. I just answered a fic request on Tumblr, but now I don't even know if she even reads this. **

**But it's been quite fun to write in this setting, even if I had to wrack my brains & do research because I had no idea at first what to do haha. I'm happy you guys read this, but goodbye for this fic is coming soon.**

**GRRM, you still the man, even if you're on a mission to kill off my favorite characters *ugly sobbing*.**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

"Maybe we should get out of the water now."

Arya said to Gendry, as she started wading towards the edge of the water. The hour was already late, possibly close to midnight, and they should get back before her family notices that they're not asleep as they were supposed to be.

"No," Gendry replied, swimming after her until he was able to grab her by the waist, making her squeal a little before he placed a hand over her mouth to silence her. "Quiet, Arya!" he hissed. He treaded towards the deeper end, until she could no longer reach the bottom and had to cling to him to prevent herself from drowning.

"What are you doing?" Arya hissed back. Her hands were clutching his arm and her legs treading along with his underwater. She had to fight harder to keep afloat, since she was much smaller in stature and here she was, dragged along without any choice. "I can't reach the bottom, stupid! I'm going to drown!"

"No, you're not. I won't let you."

He finally stopped when they were deep enough, but only where Gendry was still able to reach the bottom. He shifted Arya until her arms were around his neck to keep her anchored to him. Then he put his hands on each of her thighs and made her wrap them around his waist, making her cling to him as if he were a lifeline.

"We should go back," Arya whispered close to his ear, making him shiver. Her nails were lightly scratching circular patterns behind his head, right between his head and nape. Her hand motions were making him a little distracted and sleepy, and he had to pull her tighter to him to prevent her from slipping.

"We will," Gendry answered as he placed a soft kiss on her temple. "But not until you kiss me."

Without further conversation, she leaned in and met his lips with hers in a soft, sweet kiss. Gendry groaned at the feel of her soft, moist lips as they ground themselves onto his, in what soon became a heated kiss. He groaned some more when he felt her mouth open under his, and her tongue slipped between his hot, eager mouth. His grip on her thighs went tighter, and a soft whimper came from within her when both his hands slid around to cup her ass.

Just then, she pulled her head back and whispered, "Gendry! I think someone's out here with us!"

Gendry wasn't as fast to recover from her kisses and just murmured, "Hmm?" before leaning in again for another kiss.

Arya pinched his shoulder to get his full attention. "Listen, stupid! There's someone out here with us!" she repeated. "I think I heard rustling behind the bushes right over there," she said, pointing towards their left.

Gendry tilted his head a bit until he heard the rustling of leaves and hushed whispers behind the bushes. That got Gendry's attention. With hurried movements, he swam towards the edge of the water and carried Arya out of it. They dressed in haste; not even bothering to dry themselves fully but just putting everything on.

The bushes rustled again.

"Who's there?" Gendry called out, just loud enough for the intruders to hear. He and Arya shared a nervous look until the intruders decided to let themselves known.

"Seven hells! Bran! Rickon!" Arya exclaimed, as her two youngest brothers jumped out from behind the bushes.

"Hello, Your Grace!" Rickon said, ignoring his sister as if she weren't there. This made her angry, though.

"What are you doing behind there? Were you spying on us?" Arya hissed in anger, grabbing Rickon by the arm and tugging him to get his full attention. "It's not proper to spy on other people's affairs!"

"But nothing's proper about you, my sister," Rickon replied with a cheeky grin.

Arya huffed. "Rude! I am going to ignore that, Rickon."

"What you were doing wasn't proper, either!" Bran added, his voice filled with glee over his sister's embarrassment.

"Twice as rude!" Arya said, lightly smacking Bran in the arm.

"Come on, you two," Gendry said as he ruffled Rickon's unruly curls. ""We'd best return before someone finds out we're missing."

They walked down the path leading to the Stark's home, making sure to be as quiet as they could on their trek back. The boys were walking between Arya and Gendry, making hushed conversation as they playfully nudged each other and threw jests. Arya looked over her brothers' heads and caught Gendry's eye; an apologetic look flashing from her eyes as she mouthed, _"I'm sorry!"_ to him. Gendry mouthed _"It's alright"_ to her before giving her a small wink. Arya bit back the small laugh threatening to come out of her, and so she bit her bottom lip and kept her gaze forward only from thereon.

* * *

For the next three weeks, Gendry spent most of his time working in the forge; training for Ned and with Edric. The latter's taunts and jeers have become less now, and Gendry knew it had something to do with Arya's threats to _stick him with the pointy end_. Whatever she meant, Gendry was a little thankful now that Edric leaves him in peace, although he could well stand up for himself.

"Why haven't you given that to her, yet?" Edric said to him, when they were in the stream to wash off the day's dirt and heat from the forge.

Gendry flashed him a questioning look, but Edric only nodded towards his pocket. "I've seen you work on that little trinket of yours. I assume Your Grace is giving it to her?"

_Your Grace_.

Gendry hasn't heard his title out loud in the last few weeks since he stepped foot on Winterfell. The Starks kept calling him by title when they were in the safety of their own home, but over time, they have eventually learned to call him just by his name.

By just _Gendry_.

He whisked the excess water from his hands; patting them over his breeches to dry them some more. In an act that was unbeknownst to Gendry but did not pass by Edric, Gendry patted his shirt pocket to make sure the trinket was still there. Edric gave a soft chuckle before falling into step with the young king.

"I don't know if I should, though," Gendry said as they walked back to the village, waving to a few folks out doing their daily tasks. It was probably close to supper time, but they still had time to do a little exploration of Winterfell because they haven't really done so in the weeks past.

_"The Peach," _Edric read out loud, as they stood in front of a small tavern right in the middle of the village. "Huh. I'm sure the gentlefolk would not appreciate a brothel within Winterfell, but I'd be happy to pay this tavern a visit for a mug of ale."

Edric started towards the tavern entrance, but Gendry only stood there watching his retreating back. When he noticed that Gendry was not walking along with him, he went back for Gendry with a shake of his head.

"Have you ever been to a tavern, Your Grace?"

"It's _Gendry_," he muttered under his breath. "Be quiet."

"Have you ever been to a tavern, _Gendry_?" Edric repeated the words, but replacing it with just his name. "I'm not so sure about how the gentlefolk do it, but us smallfolk go visit the taverns and inns and brothels at times."

Gendry squinted his eyes in suspicion. "Have you been to a brothel?"

"No."

"Me neither."

"Well, this is no brothel, so let's get our _innocent_ selves in there and have a taste of ale instead of tasting…"

"Don't say it."

"…whores," Edric said, laughing at Gendry's eye roll. "Well, come on then!"

The inside was rowdy; twice as noisy inside as it was outside. Grown men and a few elders were seated on stools surrounding wooden tables, as they feasted on ale and food. There were a few whores, Gendry assumed them to be, for they were seated on the men's laps and kissing and teasing each other in public. But only one or two, he supposed, otherwise the patrons were all just enjoying a drink or two over loud conversation.

"You're Ned Stark's apprentice smiths, aye? Glad to know that he's found himself two able and skilled young bodies such as yourselves," said a burly man passing by, holding four mugs of ale in both hands.

"Yes, sir," Edric replied, a grin splitting across his handsome face.

""Would you boys like to sit with us, then? Me and the lads over there would share our company with the likes of ye," the man said as he led both young men towards a table near the back. "Lads! These two are Ned Stark's young apprentice smiths, uh…" he said, raising his brow at them both.

"Edric! And he's Gendry," Edric said, holding his hand out for everyone to shake.

"You deaf, boy? Or you just too bloody highborn to mingle with the lesser folk?"

_What?!_

Gendry's heart sank in his stomach, until he realized the man was only jesting. He could not think of a reply, so he only nodded forced himself to smile.

"I go by the name of Harwin," the burly man they first met said. "This one here is Beric, Thoros, Lem and that annoying one who can't seem to keep from singing is Tom," said Harwin, as he pointed to a lad with the pointy nose and thin brown hair. "That archer goes by the name of Anguy. Now, would you lads like a mug of ale? Tansy brews them ale to be the best in the whole of Westeros."

They spent the next hour drinking ale and chatting up with these new friends of theirs who call themselves, _Brotherhood Without Banners_. Gendry and Edric found them to be big adventurers; choosing a life of fleeting from one town to another and fighting for the rights of the smallfolk. Gendry thinks it would be a great adventure just to breeze through life like these men, but he knew deep inside that it was a desire he would not live to see. He was a king, after all, and he had bigger responsibilities to take care of rather than ride through town to town on endless adventures.

"Gendry."

Everyone turned to see Arya standing there, looking very uneasy in the presence of all these drunk men. Curious eyes turned towards her, until Harwin stood a took a little bow.

"M'lady," Harwin said, bending forward for a little dramatic display of chivalry.

"Shut up, Harwin," Arya snapped in response, although her face flushed a deep red in embarrassment.

"Do not call her m'lady!" Gendry said, waving his hands all around as he panicked. "No! Never call Arya a lady unless you want your face to meet that fist of hers! She gives an evil punch, that she does!"

Arya rolled her eyes before grabbing him steady by the arm. "Let's go. Father sent me out to look for you because he fears the worst. But I say you're only well into your cups," she said angrily, as she hooked his arm around her shoulders for support.

"Ah! I see that the little wolf controls the bull!" Anguy said in drunken glee. Sometime during the hour, they started calling Gendry a bull, because of his strong and muscular stature and somewhat short temper. It was but a jest that sort of got stuck in everyone's head.

Gendry threw his head back and laughed, pointing to Arya until she smacked it away from her face. "Arya Stark is a wolf, aye. She's as ill-tempered and wild as that pet of hers! Ow!"

He cried out in pain as Arya smacked him upside the head.

"Goodbye, my friends! We shall drink again on the morrow!" Gendry said, waving his hands and arms around until a struggling Arya stomped on his foot to get him to stop.

"You two make quite the pair," Edric laughed as he stumbled drunkenly out of the tavern. "I shall retire back in my room in the smithy! Good night, Arya! Good night, Gendry!"

Arya watched as he stumbled down the path that led back to the smithy. Gendry kept waving his hand even as Edric had already disappeared from sight. Giving up on efforts of supporting his weight, he jabbed an elbow to his stomach and walked off. Gendry cried out in pain as he bent forward and clutched his middle.

"Arya! What was that for?"

She didn't even turn around to give her reply. "For being a stupid bull! That's what you are! A stupid bull!"

"Don't leave me here! I see two of everything! And my knees have turned into churned butter! I cannot walk on my own, Arya!"

He cried out as he watched her walk furiously back on the way home.

"Arya!"

She didn't turn around but kept walking. She was annoyed because she had been looking all over for him; fearing the worst when she could not find him anywhere, only to discover that he was drowning himself in ale at _The Peach_. When she noticed that his shouts were no longer heard, she risked a peek over her shoulder and found him sitting in the middle of the dusty path. Her conscience nagged the best of her, and so with a deep sigh, she trudged slowly back to where he was sitting.

"You came back!" he exclaimed, although it had become a little weak. He was sitting on the ground with his knees bent, and his arms resting on his bent knees. His head hung low, as if he was about to pass out in the middle of the street.

"Get up. You look stupid."

"I can't. My arms and legs have become heavy."

"Here," she said, offering her outstretched arm to him. "Hold on to my arm and pull yourself up. I can't just do it on my own because you're bigger than I am."

When he was on his feet again with an arm around her shoulders, they started walking slowly down the street to return home.

"I'm sorry, Arya."

"It's okay."

"I'm drunk."

"Yes, you are."

"I'm drunk."

"You already said that."

Arya decided to sneak him back into the forge first until he sobered a little, before they want back in the house. Her parents would throw a fit if he sees Gendry like this, so the forge was probably the best option.

She made him sit on one of the wooden workbenches near the door, and almost laughed when he moved to lay on it. Curled up like a little boy, Gendry didn't look so much like a Baratheon king at this moment. Taking pity on him, she sat on her haunches and pushed back the hair that fell over his now-closed eyes.

"Don't fall asleep, yet. We have to take you back inside the house. Sit up, Gendry. And try not to fall asleep."

He did as she told, although it took him great effort to do so. When Arya stood and moved away from him, he grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle tug.

"Come here," his voice rasped, pulling to make her sit on his lap.

"What are you doing? You're drunk, Gendry."

"I am," he said. "But I'm not as drunk as I was earlier."

"Good. So we can go back home now?"

"Wait," he said in a panicked voice. "I want to give you this first."

His hand slipped into his shirt pocket and fumbled a bit, making him curse under his breath. Arya laughed at his frustrated state, until he placed a hand over her mouth to silence her.

"I…uh…I made this…for you," he said, as he took her hand and pressed something into her palm.

Arya's brows were knitted together, but only until she opened her palm and saw the gift he gave her. It was a tiny trinket made of silver metal, but that wasn't what surprised her. It was shaped into a wolf, and one whose head was turned up to give a howl. It was as if she could hear its cry, and something unknown made the feeling in her chest tighten and the insides of her stomach flutter.

She turned the trinket over and over, watching as the little light from the moon that sneaked through the windows bounced against the metal. She could feel Gendry's eyes on her and decided to meet them with her own, when she couldn't hold off staring at him any longer.

"You made this…for me?"

Gendry nodded, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. His thumb moved on to caress her cheek, and her eyes fluttered close from the soft touch.

"Thank you, Gendry," she whispered. "I love it very much. Thank you."

Gendry's nervousness ebbed away a little, and he was soon able to smile. "I was hoping you'd like it."

"I didn't know you could make something like this. Father made us little toys and trinkets over the years, and I never knew anyone else who had such talent as my father."

"That's the best compliment one could say to me," Gendry said with a grin.

Arya laughed softly, covering her mouth immediately as she realized Edric was asleep in the room at the back. "Come on, we have to get back or my mother will have the rest of my siblings out on a search party for the lost Baratheon king."

"Maybe _I am_ lost," he said softly.

Arya heard the meaning behind those words, so she leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on his lips, just enough to soothe his worries away.

"But I've found my refuge here," he added softly.

Arya's breath hitched in her throat, and she couldn't find anything fitting in response to that. So she stood from his lap and fumbled with her skirts, straightening out folds and creases for lack of anything better to do with her nervous hands. Gendry took care of that anyway, when he enfolded them in his, and Arya tried to keep the smile from showing.

"If you're ready, m'lady?" Gendry teased, signaling towards the door.

And in that moment, Arya Stark didn't mind being called m'lady at all.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I hope you guys leave reviews because they help. Or maybe in this case, say goodbye to this fic :( **

**Only two more chapters to go.**

**Thank you, everyone for reading and reviewing this right from the start. I'm hugging everyone right now, are you feeling it?**

* * *

"Do you have news of my son?"

Cersei's voice was soft as a whisper,and Yoren would have not heard her at all if it wasn't so quiet in the study. She stood there with her back to him, looking out into the sparkling deep blue waters of the expansive sea.

"King Gendry is safely hidden in Winterfell, Your Grace," replied the knight. He had traveled to Dorne to protect the Queen and lead what remains of the Kingsguards.

"Are the Starks treating him well?" she asked again, an almost desperate tone coming out of her whispered query. "Ned Stark is a most honorable man, that I am sure of. But a grieving wife and mother must know that her son is safe from harm."

Yoren nodded. "He poses as an apprentice smith for Stark,"he explained, an amused grin appearing on his face. "He wields a hammer in his hand like he was born with it."

The queen laughed. It was a most delightful sound, considering it had been weeks since that fateful day, and all that was heard of the queen were her quiet sobs and sometimes heart-wrenching cries in the middle of the night. She finally turned to face him and flashed a smile; something that was rarely seen these days.

"I still have that brooch he crafted for me. Have you seen it?" she asked, tilting her head to the right as she recalled the gifther son had given for her name day. "It was a lion's head, in honor of my family's sigil. He snuck into Tobho Mott's smithy from time to time until he was able to make something out of those irons and metals. Robert did not understand why his son found it necessary to run him ragged with acting so unlike an heir to the throne, but I think I did. I understand what it is like to be constrained with duties and responsibilities and how it feels to wish that I were out there exploring the world."

The sad look in her face returned, amd Yoren couldn't bear to look at her. She looked about ready to cry with all this talk about her son.

"Take me there, Ser Yoren," she said as she walked towards him. She surprised the knight by grabbing both of his hands and pleaded.

"I beg of you, Ser Yoren. I need to see my son...to talk to him. He's all I have now, and I long to feel him in my arms again. My son is all I have.."

Yoren didn't know what to do whe the queen started crying. With sad, tearful eyes, she begged one last time.

"Take me to Winterfell."

* * *

"You're supposed to relax your arm. Here, I'll show it to you."

Gendy took the bow and arrow Bran was holding and got into position. They were all spending the rest of the day dallying out in the fields, climbing trees and playing with wooden swords and eating everything Catelyn had prepared for the noon meal. Robb and Jon were watching as Gendry taught their younger brothers how to shoot with a bow and arrow. The girls, on the other hand, were picking flowers and berries. Well, Arya was picking out berries while Sansa picked flowers and weaved them together into a garland.

"Your bow arm should be towards the target, like so," Gendry went on to focus on a particular spot at the tree a couple of feet away from them. He had the most perfect archer stance they had ever seen up close; he drew the string towards his face at an anchor point, just right around his ear. When he was focused and ready, he released the string and the arrow shot straight onto the middle of the tree trunk he chose. It was a clean release, and everyone was visibly impressed. Bran and Rickon clapped enthusiastically, and Gendry's face split into a grin from ear to ear.

"You have very skilled hands, Your Grace," Sansa said, in that soft melodic voice of hers.

Arya looked at her sister as she sat there weaving flowers, looking over at Gendry with shy, hooded eyes. And then she looked at Gendry, who in turn gave Sansa a small smile. When his eyes met hers, she gave him an eyeroll. He laughed at that.

"Thank you, Sansa," he said. He returned the bow and arrow to Bran, who was actually very eager to try it on his own. Gendry walked over to where the two sisters sat, making sure he sat nearer the older sister just to annoy the youngest one. "You seem very skilled with your hands as well."

Sansa's head bowed lower as a blush crept across her face; tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear in what appeared to be a very feminine move. Arya, on the other hand, grunted and rolled her eyes before shifting so her back was turned away from them.

"You have very soft hands. Do you mind if I touch them?" Arya heard Gendry ask Sansa.

_What in seven hells is he doing?_

"No, Your Grace," she heard Sansa say. "But why would you want to touch my hands?"

Arya didn't want to hear his answer, so she stood and walked over to where Robb and Jon were sitting under an oak tree.

"What's got you seething?" Jon asked as Arya sat between him and Robb.

"Nothing," Arya muttered.

"Arya's in love," Robb said with a laugh.

"Am not! Take that back!"

"She's in love with King Gendry Baratheon, the First of His Name and Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms," Robb said to Jon.

"Why are you saying that? I am not!" Arya exclaimed in anger.

Both her brothers ignored her, though, because Jon laughed right along with Robb. "I think so, too. Imagine Arya sitting beside the King and popping out royal babies!"

They were expecting Arya to fight some more, but she surprised them both when she started crying instead.

"Hey, Arya," Jon said as he took hold of her arm. She tried to pull away, but Jon's grip was strong.

"Leave me alone!" she sobbed. She sat there with knees bent, her head resting over her arms as she cried softly.

Robb and Jon looked at each other and instantly regretted teasing her. Maybe their guess was right. Maybe Arya really is in love with the young king.

"Arya," Robb whispered into her ear as he leaned closer. "I was just teasing you, I'm sorry," he said, putting an arm around her curled-up form. "Seven hells, you mustn't let Gendry see you crying."

Arya sniffed as she straightened up and ran a hand over her face to wipe the tears. She looked over to Gendry and saw that he was still conversing with her sister, and the miserable feeling she felt turned into a flash of jealousy.

"So are you…you know…in love with him?" Jon asked warily, as he watched her try keep her emotions under control. He wondered what caused this sudden shift in her mood from sad to angry, but then he remembers that love can cause unexplainable things to people.

Arya never got to answer it though, because they noticed Ned and Catelyn were walking over to where they were.

"Mother! Gendry taught me how to shoot a bow and arrow! Watch!" Rickon cried out proudly, as he got into the best archer's stance he could muster.

Catelyn gave him a smile, somewhat distracted though, and ruffled his soft curly hair. "I'd love to see that, my love, but right now we need to talk to _King Gendry_."

They all noticed how she put stress on his title. Even Gendry noticed because he sulked a little.

"What is it?" Gendry asked as he stood and walked over to follow them.

Ned's face was filled with worry. "Gendry, come with us now. Someone's paid you a visit."

* * *

The Queen is even more beautiful up close.

They all stood by the sides as they watched mother and son's tearful reunion. It felt wrong, though. No one should be witnessing something as private as this moment, but they all stood mesmerized by the bittersweet moment of it all.

Arya had never seen Gendry cry before, and her heart ached for him at this moment.

"I thank you all for taking care of my Gendry," Cersei said when she and Gendry finally let go of each other. With a final kiss to the top of Gendry's head, she headed over to Ned and Catelyn and surprised them with a warm embrace. "I don't know how he would have survived on his own during the past weeks, but I see that he's being taken care of.

"We were happy to have him here in our home," replied Ned.

Gendry frowned. "Why all this talk of gratitude now? It's not as if we're leaving Winterfell on the morrow."

Cersei's face was sad. "Oh, love. But we are leaving on the morrow."

Everyone gasped in shock, except maybe Arya whose eyes suddenly started to water.

Gendry was leaving her too.


	11. Chapter 11

He felt like hell.

A month had passed since he returned to King's Landing with his mother and the rest of the royal entourage. With the help of Ser Yoren, his most trusted knight, they had restored peace and order by taking down every last Frey responsible for the late King Robert's demise. All those who were and remained loyal to House Baratheon bent the knee for the new Baratheon king. He struggled with this new responsibility of his, and no amount of preparation could ever make one ready for a duty as big as this.

"Your Grace?"

Gendry was startled out of his thoughts by his Uncle Renly's voice. He looked at his father's brother and nodded once. "My apologies, Lord Renly. Where were we?"

Renly held his stare for a little longer before moving on. "The men have started to rebuild part of the holding that was destroyed by the fire. The structure won't be completed until another moon, but it is backbreaking work and there aren't enough men working on it right now."

"Have you found able bodies from the village?" asked Gendry.

His uncle shook his head. "It crossed our minds, which is why we need your permission to do so."

"Then do it."

"Certainly, Your Grace."

As soon as the council ended and only uncle and nephew were left in the hall, Renly thought of confronting him about his behavior since he came back from Winterfell.

"You seem distracted. Is anything amiss, dear nephew?"

Gendry leaned back on his chair and sighed. "I don't know if I'm doing the right thing...making the right decisions."

"You are doing well, Gendry. It will be a long, hard road up ahead but you'll get there, eventually."

"I will never be as good as my father."

"There will be a minority who would expect you to rule like your father did, but the majority knows you are a new king with a different view of things. Trust me when I say that the smallfolk believes in you."

Gendry smiled a little. "I am happy that you are here, Uncle Renly. Sometimes I don't know who to trust within the council."

"Ahh. I'd say be careful about Varys. He has eyes and ears everywhere."

"I do know that," Gendry said with a laugh.

"But do you know that the Master of Coin runs a brothel in the next town and his best whore manages it?"

"That I do not know!"

Renly grinned at him. "Would you care for a visit and see if we could make a man out of you yet?"

Gendry snorted. "I care not to lie with whores."

"Do you still miss him?"

The shift in subjects made Gendry blink.

"Yes, I still miss my father."

Renly was giving him a long, hard stare that made him a little uncomfortable.

"And do you miss _her_?"

Gendry's eyes shot back to his uncle's and saw the beginnings of a grin. Gendry could only roll his eyes and Renly laughed at the gesture.

"So you do miss her?"

Gendry turned his head to look out the window, a forlorn look replacing the smile that was there earlier.

"Everyday, Uncle. Every single day."

* * *

Ned watched as Arya moved about the kitchen; chopping vegetables for the rabbit stew meant for supper. She seemed distracted; having nicked a finger while peeling potatoes and burned herself with the pot lid as she stirred the stew.

"Are you alright, my love?" he asked, when Arya muttered a curse under her breath.

"It's just a cut, Father. I'll live," she replied as she stirred the potatoes into the stew.

Ned nodded slowly but kept on watching her. Arya felt conscious of his gaze, and so she turned to face him with her hands on her hips.

"Why do I feel like I'm being watched all the time?"

"We all worry about you," Ned answered. "You haven't talked much and even Nymeria feels your sadness. Don't you feel the sadness of her howls?"

"No. I'm a little occupied with being too sad."

"Arya."

Arya heaved a deep sigh. "I'm sorry, Father. Yes, I hear her sadness."

"She feels your pain."

"My pain? _My pain? _Who says I'm in pain?" she said, her voice rising a little.

Ned watched as her movements turned angry. "I am not in pain!" she said as she went on banging pots and chopping the carrots like she were trying to kill someone. _Poor carrots_.

"First, he comes here and turns this home upside down with all his royal glory. Second, you taught him how to smith and he ends up being really skilled with those hands! I bet they're no longer soft as a king's hand should be!"

Ned noticed Arya's hand clutching the wolf trinket at her neck. She had tied it with a thin leather string and kept it around her neck all of the time. He found out through Sansa that Gendry made it for her and knew it was a special gift. He wondered, though, if Arya knew she touched it often just as she was doing right now.

"Third, he wasn't supposed to leave before I could tell him-"

Arya's voice trailed off when she realized what she was about to say. With pained, tearful eyes, she looked over at her father and saw his equally pained expression.

"It's okay, my sweet Arya. Love isn't supposed to be happy all the time."

Ned was able to reach her before she started sobbing. He held her small form within his arms and placed soft kisses on top of her head. Arya didn't make much sound, but Ned felt her entire body wrack with sobs.

"I didn't know it would be this painful," she mumbled as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "Why does it hurt this much, Father?"

"Oh, sweet. If it didn't hurt this much, then it wouldn't even be considered love at all."

"That's stupid."

"We all become stupid because of love. Imagine if love was just happy and carefree the whole time, then nothing would be worth cherishing and nothing would be worth keeping because that's all it's ever going to be..._not worth keeping because it's easy_."

"Maybe I don't want it easy, then."

"Neither do I, my love."

Arya laughed amidst the tears. "We're stubborn, then. Stupid and stubborn."

"We _are _Starks, after all. We're stubborn because we fight for what is ours, even if it meant hurting ourselves in the process. Our words, Arya. Remember our words. _Winter is coming_, and us Starks prepare ourselves for the difficult times and we emerge as victors. I do believe that loving someone should not be any different."

Ned pulled back and placed a kiss on her forehead before finally letting go. "Now go on. I don't want my stew to taste like salty tears."

Arya laughed as she went back to cooking.

"Do you think, Father, that I could-"

He interrupted her before she could say the rest. "Yes, my love. You need not ask."

"Thank you!" Arya said, a smile finally emerging on her face.

* * *

_Gendry found her sitting on one of the branches._

_"Arya, get down here. I need to talk to you."_

_"What's there to talk about? Your Grace is leaving on the morrow for King's Landing. Your royal ass must be itching to sit on the throne."_

_"You know it isn't like that! As much as I hate to return home, I have a duty to people whose lives are depending on me."_

_"Why did I even bother to be friends with a king? I'm too bloody lowborn to be friends with your royal ass!"_

_"We need to talk and I can't talk to you when you're up there. Now get down here!"_

_"Go away!"_

_He knew Arya would be too stubborn to listen, so Gendry decided to climb up the tree instead. _

_"What are you doing? I said leave me alone!"_

_"Shut up and don't move!"_

_"I'll throw this apple at you if you don't leave me alone!"_

_"I'm not listening to you ri-Ow! Arya!"_

_"Would you like more apples? Here!"_

_"Stop throwing apples at me, you brat!"_

_"Fine! Here's something else, then!"_

_Gendry felt something hit him on the shoulder but was lucky enough to have caught it before it fell to the ground._

_The trinket._

_He looked up and saw Arya glaring at him, although he swears there were tears in her eyes._

_"Go find someone else who would wear it."_

_With one last look, he shimmied back down the tree and started towards the house without a backward glance._

Gendry woke with his heart pounding fast. He dreamt the same thing every night, although it wasn't really a dream. It was his last memory of Arya. He could still feel the trinket as it hit his shoulder, just as if it happened only minutes before. He recalls leaving it on the pillow Arya was using, so that it would be the first thing she finds when she opens her eyes. He remembers tasting the saltiness of her tears when he placed one last kiss on her cheek, and it took great effort for Gendry to turn around and leave.

When he could find sleep no longer, he got out of bed and got dressed. It was almost light out anyway, and his duties would be starting soon. Taking advantage of the next hour all to himself, he padded quietly down the stairwell and straight to the back where he usually took the secret passage. He had to stay away from the kitchen staff and guards who were already about to start their day, just so he could get some privacy as he snuck out of the castle grounds.

When he was finally out, he tilted his head up, closed his eyes and took a deep calming breath. For a minute, he wondered where he'd go. But instinct made the decision for him. He started walking faster; his feet leading him to where his heart most wanted to be.

He took the quickest route to the forge.

* * *

"I'm glad to have you back, Ned," Tobho Mott said as he pounded on the dented armor one of the knights had delivered the afternoon past. It was too early to be working, but Tobho had a ton of work to do for the day, which is why he was grateful that Ned Stark had returned to King's Landing to fulfill his duty as blacksmith. "I fear that I can no longer smith as hard as I used to, and I am happy that you have returned to render your services."

"I have a sworn duty to the king and the people. I only see fit to fulfill that duty," Ned replied.

They worked in silence for a while, before someone else entered. Both men looked up in surprise at the early visit, but were even more surprised to find their king standing there with an equally surprised expression on his face.

"Your Grace!" Tobho exclaimed, and he and Ned both bowed to his presence.

"I apologize for the early visit," Gendry said as he looked from Tobho to Ned. "I merely wanted to come visit the forge. I find myself missing the feel of a hammer and tongs in my hands," he said as he smiled at Ned. "I didn't know you were back, Ned. The kingdom would be happy to have use of your services again."

"I am honored to fulfill my duty, Your Grace."

"Would you please excuse us, Tobho?" Gendry said without further ado. "I must speak with Ned, now that he's back."

Tobho nodded once. "I shall return when summoned."

"What can I do for Your Grace?" Ned asked once they were alone.

"Arya," Gendry said without hesitation. "I need to see your daughter."

Ned waved his hand towards the cleanest workbench in the forge, and motioned for Gendry to sit before taking a seat himself. "If I may ask, what does the king need from my daughter?"

Gendry took a deep breath. "You know, maybe it is not Arya that I really need to talk to. Maybe it is you."

Ned's brows furrowed. "Me? But what can I do for Your Grace aside from my services as a smith?"

"I need your permission."

"For what, Your Grace?"

"Arya's hand in marriage."

Ned swallowed the lump in his throat. He must have heard wrong, he thought, but the young king was looking at him as if he was as nervous about the answer as Ned was at the request.

"I'm sorry, Your Grace. But I must have heard wrong when you said you're asking for Arya's hand in marriage?"

"You heard correctly."

"My Arya?"

"I'm sorry, Ned. But do we need to be like parrots repeating every word?"

"My apologies, Gendry, but you want my Arya's hand in marriage?"

Gendry noticed how Ned said his name instead of his title. Maybe the father in Ned was starting to realize what Gendry was asking of him, and Gendry suddenly became nervous.

"Yes, sir."

"I do understand why my daughter would love you, but I do not know if it would be wise for a king to take a lowborn smith's daughter's hand in marriage."

"Arya loves me?"

_Shit! _Ned muttered under his breath. It should have not been his place to tell Gendry what Arya felt, but in a moment of pure surprise, he'd said it. _Stupid! _"It is not right, Your Grace," he said instead.

"The king can do as he likes," Gendry stubbornly said. "And the king wants to ask Ned Stark for his daughter's hand in marriage."

Gendry knelt on the dirty forge floor and looked at Ned without wavering. "I, Gendry Baratheon, the first of my name and ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, would like to ask for your permission to give your daughter's hand in marriage. Titles and birthrights are not deemed important under my rule, and it would be a great honor to take your daughter's hand in marriage, where she sits and stands beside me and not behind me, as is her rightful place to be. I swear an oath to make and keep her happy, and beget happy and healthy Baratheon brats who would run me ragged. If you will, sir, entrust your daughter's life with me, I shall do nothing else but to keep her happy."

"I hope you've not turned daft, Gendry. Arya will run you ragged first before those children of yours would."

Gendry laughed. "So I have your blessing?"

Ned nodded before pulling Gendry to his feet and embracing him. "You have my blessing."

* * *

**A/N: Just the epilogue left now. Thank you again for reading/reviewing/following & making this a favorite. It's been fun writing this one, but at least there's still Leaving Winter, although that one's close to the end too.**

**Thank you again :)**


	12. Chapter 12

They watched as the feast went on till late.

He and his younger brother were hidden under the table where their grandfather was sitting, along with the rest of the knights. They watched the feast from beneath their hiding place; watched as the men came and went in all their finery, and the women danced and gossiped and led the men a merry chase in all their pretty satin ball gowns and ornately styled hair. They watched curiously as every new face flitted from one table to the next, and made sure to keep themselves from being seen by the familiar faces who might rat them out from their hiding place.

"Eddard! I'm thirsty! Should we go out there now?"

The five year-old Eddard put a finger over his lips to keep his four year-old brother silent. "Just wait a while longer, Robert! I just saw Mother talking to Septa Elnore. She appears to be looking for us!"

Robert nodded his head, although he tried to stretch his legs to keep the cramps away. "Did you see the way Father smiled when Grandfather gave him the Iron Stag? It rivals the swords in the old Iron Throne, I tell you!"

Eddard grinned. "The Stag looks like a comfortable throne to sit upon. I could tell that Father liked it better than the old one."

"Father, have you seen Eddard and Robert?"

The children froze at the mention of their name, even moreso when they heard it was their mother's voice speaking.

"Have you looked in their chambers, my love?"

"I have, but the brats seemed to have successfully escaped Septa Elnore again. I swear those brats are running me ragged!"

They heard their grandfather laugh. "I fondly remember a time when I told the same thing to your husband. We agreed that you would run him ragged first before your children would."

"I'm happy that you and my husband have conspired into thinking that I wear everything and everyone down with my feisty nature, and I promise you that I have a very fitting reply to that. But right now, my children are missing. Could you tell me just in case you run into them? I'm beginning to worry."

"I certainly will, my love."

"Thank you."

The boys spied their mother's shoes quickly walking away, but soon returned to the table and said, "Thank you for making the Iron Stag, Father. Gendry was most pleased that you gave him such a beautifully crafted present for his name day."

"I enjoyed working on the new throne. Tell Gendry that I am honored to have made something of value to him."

"I have to go find the boys before they get on Nymeria's back and run off into the woods. Again."

Ned laughed. "Good luck with the boys!"

Robert pinched his older brother's arm. "Mother's getting worried! Maybe we should go out now!"

Eddard sighed. "Fine! Just run as fast as you could and go straight for the kennels. I want to visit the wolves before they do find us and bring us up to the chambers."

Robert nodded in understanding. "Okay, count to three! One…"

Eddard continued. "Two…"

Just then the cloth that covers the table was raised and Ned peeked underneath. "Three."

"Grandfather!" both boys cried out in surprise.

Ned laughed as he grabbed each boy's waist in each of his arms and pulled them from under the table. The boys found the amused faces of the knights, and waved back to those who waved at them.

"You boys are making your mother worried. How long have you been under the table?" Ned asked as he carried both boys towards the Great Table at the center of the Hall.

"We were there before Tom O'Seven started singing the _featherbed_ song," Eddard replied.

"That long?" Ned asked in disbelief. "I'm surprised you haven't fallen asleep while underneath."

"But my legs did fall asleep, Grandfather!" cried out Robert, much to Ned's amusement.

"You brats! Where have you been? Your mother's been looking all over for you!"

They cringed at the sound of their father's angry voice. Their grandfather placed them back on their feet and made them face their father's anger.

"I found these two hiding under our table."

"You've been hiding there all the time?"

"Only before Tom O'Seven started his song!" cried out Eddard. "I'm sorry, Father. I made Robert hide under the table with me. It was my fault."

Gendry placed both hands on his waist and exhaled loudly. "You boys will be the death of me and your mother."

"We're sorry, Father. We'll go find mother now, if you want," Robert said, already close to tears.

Gendry sighed. "No need. I can't let you two run wild again or else you'll run directly to the kennels and visit the wolves."

Eddard and Robert shared a secret glance.

"Oh for the seven's sake! You _were_ off to the kennels now, weren't you?" Gendry asked, his voice louder this time.

"We just wanted to see Nymeria and Ghost and Shaggydog and…" Eddard's voice trailed off when Gendry took his and Robert's hand in each of his own.

"I'm taking you to your bedchambers and I'll ask your septa to tell you a story to put you to sleep," Gendry said as he led his children up the stairs.

"But Septa Elnore tells the most boring stories!" Robert whined. "Why don't you tell us a story, Father?"

"Yes, please, Father!" Eddard joined in. "Tell us about the time Mother threw crabapples at you!"

"And the time when Uncle Bran and Uncle Rickon were spying on you behind the bushes!" Robert added.

Gendry laughed, despite his anger earlier. When they reached the children's bedchambers, they both washed as best as they could before changing into their night clothes. When they were all settled underneath the covers and Gendry between them, he told them the story about crabapples…Uncle Bran and Uncle Rickon…getting drunk at the Peach…meeting the Brotherhood Without Banners…working at the forge with Edric Dayne and Grandfather Ned.

And then he told them about the howling wolf he made for their mother and how she cried when he asked for her hand in marriage.

"But why would she cry? Wasn't she happy about marrying you?" a sleepy Robert said in between yawns.

Gendry stroked his youngest son's black hair away from his grey eyes, and did the same for Eddard's black, unruly curls. He watched as his eldest son, the heir to his throne, tried to force his blue eyes open and chuckled when he was only half-successful in doing so.

"Mother was very happy that day, but sometimes happiness brings tears to your eyes, too. Crying doesn't always mean being unhappy. It can mean being very happy that tears well in your eyes. Mother cried sad tears when she gave birth to each of you, and then she cried happy tears when you started crying."

"Have you ever cried too, Father?" Eddard asked.

"I cried when I missed your Mother. I cried when we were apart. And I cried when she gave me two sons."

They were quiet after a while, until Gendry realized both boys were finally asleep. Being careful not to wake them, he crawled out of the bed to return to the feast at the Great Hall.

"I'm very impressed," Arya whispered as soon as Gendry crossed the room.

A smile emerged from Gendry's face when he saw his wife standing there, watching him as he slowly made his way to her.

"You were spying on us!"

"I didn't know you cried when we were apart."

"Ha ha! You're hilarious, Arya."

"But you love me."

"How unfortunate for me."

"I love you too."

"I know. Ow!" Gendry doubled over when Arya stomped on his foot. "That's very mature of you, My Queen."

"Tell me you love me!"

"You didn't have to stomp on my royal foot! And I do love you!"

"Maybe you should add tears so it'll come across as a happy declaration."

"You can't get me to cry right now. I'm too annoyed at you for hurting my foot."

"Oh, I wager I can get you to cry."

"Do your best."

"I'm pregnant."

* * *

"Ser Yoren, is something the matter with my nephew and Arya?"

Yoren looked at Lord Renly and shrugged. "I do not know, My Lord. What seems to be the problem?"

Renly shrugged and shook his head distractedly. "I do not know either. But as I was about to use the stairwell, I found them embracing each other right outside Eddard and Robert's chambers. I was just wondering if they are in the middle of another misunderstanding, because my nephew seems to be crying like a pig about to be roasted."


End file.
